Chance of Fate
by Lolo Loco
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has been working as a shop assistant for 2 years. His days are boring and repetitive but he by no means hates his job; he appreciates the uneventful work he chose. That is however until a certain tall, overly happy American happens to walk into the shop, breaking his peace and quiet. Will this American ever leave him alone? Or is this just what Arthur needs?
1. Not So Peaceful End To The Day

"Staff announcement; Arthur to tills, that's Arthur to tills, Thank you."

_Fantastic._

Arthur stood up from his seat in the staff room and went to put his book back into his work locker; putting the key in his trouser pocket, he left the small littered room and made his way down the corridor to the stairs. Just four small flights of stairs were between him and the ground floor of his workplace, he descended them without even a glance to the elevator next to them. That damn lift had broken down so many times that no one even bothered to use it anymore, besides, the flights of stairs really weren't very large at all and it was due to pure laziness that anyone used to use the contraption anyway; in his opinion, the stairs were faster and better for you. He never really gave a toss about the malfunctioning lift in the first place.

He quickly reached the ground floor and signed himself back onto his shift, his measly fifteen minute break officially over; turning the latch on the door, he crossed the threshold onto the not so busy shop floor. He walked briskly through the shop, past rails of clothes and stands for scarves and jewellery, cleanly avoiding large old women with trolleys and stiffly walking past bustling teenage girls who stood gossiping in the middle of the aisles; walking through essentially the whole of the clothing section of the shop until he reached the line of tills to the right of the entrance (if one was coming into the shop). He gave a short smile to the supervisor on the first till as he walked to his station, logged in, and pressed the call button.

"Cashier number 6, please." Said the pre-recorded nameless male voice and the queue shifted; a middle aged woman came up to his till and placed four male shirts on the counter as Arthur gathered and opened a small plastic bag.

"Thank you for waiting." He said politely with a courteous smile; small and a little forced if he was honest. He wasn't really one for smiling; however, he also wasn't one for giving bad customer service. A simple small practiced smile was all that was needed to make the customer feel comfortable and that's what he gave; of course if he was engaged in conversation he would respond accordingly, some people feel better to be talked with so they're not just standing around awkwardly, others want to unload certain thoughts or events that have happened to them and of course he would listen, didn't have much of a choice really.

Thankfully, this woman busied herself with the small items hanging from smaller rails by the tills as Arthur scanned her items; he wasn't really in the mood for talking today.

"That's £26 altogether then please." He said in the same polite tone, the woman nodded and got out her purse; Arthur didn't really know why she hadn't busied herself getting prepared to pay rather than looking at other items. "Do you have a store card at all?" he asked as she was digging around, she answered in the affirmative and produced a black card which Arthur took and swiped on his till, once it had accepted the little credit card like piece of plastic, he handed it back to the woman who then flashed a debit card. He typed the appropriate keys on the till and carried on with the dialogue he knew off by heart.

"Ok, put your card in…" she put the end of the card into the small machine on the counter, when it showed up on the screen, he pressed a couple more keys, "And pop your pin in for me please…" she did so and after a moment the receipt came out the top of the till. He took what the shop needed and printed the rest of the receipt. "Would you like me to put the receipt in the bag for you?" he asked, already opening the bag because most people said yes, the woman was no different. "There you go, thank you very much." He said with his small smile and the woman voiced her thanks and left with her items; Arthur put his part of the receipt into the draw under the till, like he had to every time someone used a card, as he did this, he pressed the call button again.

"Cashier number 6, please."

Every customer was pretty much the same and he had memorised what to say in the first hour on the first day he worked there; that was two years ago now.

Open a small or large bag.

"Thank you for waiting."

Take out the coat hangers and put them in the large cardboard box under the till to be recycled; unless the customer asks to keep them, in which case take them out and put them to the side, ready to put in the bag last.

Remove all alarm tags so they don't set the doors off.

Fold the clothes and put them in the bag.

Tell them how much it costs.

"Do you have a store card at all?"

"Yes." Take the card and swipe it.

"Yes but I don't have it on me."

"Would you like me to look you up on the system? I just need you surname and postcode." Take the information and get their loyalty number.

"No I don't have one/ I need a new one."

"Would you like to sign up today for free/ for a replacement?"

"Yes." Give them the form and temporary card.

"No thank you." Carry on with purchase.

Take their money or card and get receipt.

"Would you like me to put the receipt in the bag for you?"

Put receipt in the bag or give it to the customer and hand them their items along with any change if they need it.

"Here you are, thank you very much."

Not the most exciting job in the world but it put bread on the table, and there were much worse jobs he could do. He certainly didn't love his job but by no means did he hate it either; it was just something he could do easily to earn money, nothing to take home to do afterwards, leaving him time to relax with books or a good film. Yes it was boring at times and his feet hurt after a particularly long shift, but hey ho, that's life.

His days went on like this four times a week, thankfully today's shift was almost over, the break he just had was his last, so he only had an hour left before he could go home and have a well deserved, and needed, cup of tea; this thought kept him in a good mood until he heard snickering on the till next to him.

"Oi, what are you laughing at?" he muttered under his breath as another customer left with their bag; his manager adjusted his ponytail and tucked some of his pale blonde hair behind his ear, looking at him sideways waggling his delicate eyebrows.

"Someone's popular today~" came a smooth French accent, Arthur's lip curled upwards in slight disgust and raised a not so delicate eyebrow in turn.

"Wot?" he hated his manager; hated him with a passion. Francis Bonnefoy had moved to the UK ten years ago, yet he never even had the decency to get rid of his appalling accent; the ditsy "exotic loving" girls went nuts for it so he had kept his accent like the attention seeking bastard he was. In the true British fashion, Arthur had hated his guts unconditionally from the moment they met, however by that point, he had already been hired so there was no backing out of his employment. He grabbed another plastic bag and opened it roughly as the man snickered again, turning to his own customer. As Arthur tried to ignore his arsehole of a manager, he turned to the young woman who approached the till; however when he did, his eyes locked onto something past the woman's face and into the stationary queue.

In the middle of the long, unmoving queue was a man who was a good deal taller than most of the young and middle aged people around him; he wore a pale blue hoodie, carrying a bundle of casual, short sleeved t-shirts. His sunny blonde hair was swept to the side and slightly obscured a pair of wireframe rectangular glasses; clear blue eyes were staring at him. Just staring. Standing there, his head turned to look directly at him; just standing there, staring at him.

Arthur found it quite unnerving to say the least, the look was incredibly intense, and by the way the Frenchman beside him was now holding back his laughter with some difficulty, he had noticed Arthur's realisation; he tore his eyes away from the man a second later and tried to focus on his current customer. He put her items in the bag

"Do you have a store card at all?"

He took it, swiped it, and glanced up for a split second.

He was still staring at him;

He gave the card back, took her cash, opened the till draw, got her change, went to get her receipt, his eyes flickered back to the queue.

He was still staring at him…

"Shall I put the receipt in the bag for you?" he asked, put it in the bag, handed it to her, "Here you are, thank you very much." He looked to the queue as he pressed the call button.

He was still staring at him…!

"Cashier number 6, please."

A couple more customers passed his way as the queue slowly moved; Arthur tried the best he could to concentrate on the people he was serving but every time he looked up, his eyes would find that same young man just staring right at him. He tried to calm himself down. He was just looking at the products that were shelved behind Arthur on the wall; yes, that was it! Maybe he wanted to buy a box or a cushion and was looking at which would be best for him, yes that was it; that was his story and he was sticking to it! But the intense way in which the man was staring, it really was unnerving; he almost looked like he was in disbelief. His eyes were ever so slightly widened and his brow faintly furrowed, almost in determination, his lips formed a hard line, like he was deep in concentration; Arthur prayed to any God that was listening that he wouldn't have to serve the man. He thought he had been heard as his customer left and there was one person in front of the blonde man in the queue. However it seemed that God was out that day because as he pressed the call button, Francis' customer also left and the old woman went to his manager instead, finally snapping the young man out of his concentration and causing him to beam as if he was the happiest person on earth as he tottered over to Arthur's till. Despite the sweat that Arthur could feel threatening to break through his skin, he gave a small polite smile and opened a bag as the happy man placed his tops on the counter.

"Thank you for waiting."

"No prahblem!" he said with a huge grin.

Wait, what?

Arthur blinked and started to scan and fold the shirts the man handed to him, glancing up he noticed the man couldn't have been much younger than him, however he gave off an absolutely exhausting vibe; he was smiling far too happily and if he didn't know any better, he would think that the man in front of him was practically bouncing on the spot. He heard a large intake of breath and readied himself for whatever the customer was about to say, so much for a peaceful end to his shift.

"I've never been in this store before! I'm really glad I came in now cause I saw you- y-" he stuttered and Arthur glanced up, raising an eyebrow; the man quickly recovered, clearing his throat, it appeared that something must have got caught. "YOUR, Your SHIRTS! They're really cool shirts! I never knew you guys liked the US that much! There's the flag and stuff everywhere!" he laughed a little too loudly.

Oh GOD…

_ 'No bloody wonder…'_ Arthur thought in despair, he thought he knew that accent; no wonder the man was so obliviously loud and shameless… he was AMERICAN! Keeping very firmly in mind that he was on the job, he kept this expression under control, though his tone was noticeably more curt than he would normally speak.

"Yes, though you'll notice the Union Jack dotted about the place as well, along with other nation motifs; it's a theme that's been rather popular since the whole Olympics season. Patriotism and all that." He said with a small smile, resisting the very powerful urge to put the stupid man in his place. The American didn't seem to read the atmosphere at all and he just kept on smiling that too happy smile.  
"Oh yeah! Yeah the Olympics were awesome! And we won too so that was cool!" Arthur's eyebrow twitched.  
Oh HELL no.

Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn't patriotic, he wasn't nuts about it, but he was certainly proud to be British; this American was undoubtedly pushing ALL the wrong buttons, and the worst of it was he just kept SMILING. Was he making fun of him or something? This time, the tall blonde seemed to realise what he said and quickly stuttered to try and redeem himself. He failed miserably. "B-But you guys came third so hey! That's cool!" Arthur could only offer a deadpan expression as a reply, his voice matched.

"Do you have a store card at all?" finally, the man was stunned into silence at his tone and the smile dropped slightly.

"S-Store card? What's that? Do you need one?" Arthur gave a small, silent sigh; the man before him wasn't the first person who had ever asked that question, and he definitely wouldn't be the last, but for some reason it just made Arthur more irritated. Maybe it was because this meant that he had to spend more time serving the annoying American. He picked up a spare store card he happened to have on his till and leant his elbows on the counter to show him, his feet hurting a little too much to keep standing straight; though it was also because this man obviously didn't care about proper behaviour whether working or not, so Arthur could relax his posture slightly.

"Well, no you don't need one, it's not necessary, but it certainly helps if you do have one." He showed him the black card, about the same size as any credit card, on the back was a strip (so it could be scanned) and some writing and on the front there were white numbers printed on the black surface; also printed was the name of the shop. Arthur continued with another script that he had learnt long ago. "If you have a store card then it entitles you to offers in store, it allows you to have discounts and we give you a £5 voucher on your birthday. It also entitles you to this lovely catalogue so you can shop online; along with this it also gives you a discount on your first order if you do choose to shop online." He patted a small pile of catalogues on the counter, then showed the American the front of the card. "This is your loyalty number, if for any reason the card doesn't swipe due to a till malfunction or an old card, we can just pop this number in the till and it'll recognise it. If you lose or forget your card we can look you up on the system by taking your surname and postcode and looking you up on the computer; you can then apply for a replacement card and we'll give you a temporary card to use in the meantime." He put the card back on the till and continued, not really caring if the man was listening, people very rarely did, or they just forgot right afterwards. "Also, if you want to make a return, but you've lost the receipt then you can give us your card and we can see if you made the purchase and used you card, we'll then be able to give you a refund." He stood up straight again. "Would you like to register for a store card today? It's completely free of charge." The man pondered for a moment.

"That sounds pretty cool…" he said under his breath, then looked up with that all too happy smile. "Yeah! Sure why not!" Arthur sighed a little and took out a form from a pile beside the till, tearing off the right bit and handing to him. "Here you are, just fill out the 'New Customer' section and we'll be able to post your card to you."

He hoped that at this point the American would apologise and say that there wasn't any point because he'd be going back to his country in a week or something; sadly, he just grinned and took the form from him and smiled at it, then he looked back up expectantly.

"Can I fill it out now?" Arthur's shoulders dropped slightly and he gave the man a pen that was on his till; again, there was nothing wrong with doing the form right then and there, many customers did, in fact it was preferable for them to do so. For some reason though, he just wanted the man to leave, he just wanted this shift over and done with so he could go home and forget this whole ordeal. The blonde American took the pen happily and started writing his details, then he stopped as if he remembered something and dug around in his pocket, he produced a parking ticket.

"Do you guys validate parking?" he asked with a grin.

"Have you done all your shopping within the hour?"

"Yep! This was the last store I came to! Just got in the parking lot."

'I don't care…' Arthur thought sourly, trying to ignore the Americanisms, but he jumped at the opportunity to get away from the man for even a second; he took the parking ticket from him and gave his small smile.

"Ok, you fill out that form and I'll go do this for you." He said politely as he turned and walked down the line of tills towards the little machine on the desk by the wall; as he walked away from the till, he also managed a subtle, smooth kick to his manager's shin, who was also smiling far too much for his patience. He put the ticket into the small machine and waited for it to spit it back out again, then he took it back to the till, the American by this point had just about finished filling out his form; when he put the pen down he rooted around in his pockets again and pulled out two £20 notes, handing them over. Arthur thanked him and opened the till; gathering the man's change he moved the bag across the counter slightly. "Would you like me to put the receipt in the bag for you?"

"Uh, yeah sure go ahead!" Arthur did so and gave the American his change, he then took the form off him and from the part he ripped off before, he folded and ripped the scored line of a temporary card; he handed the bag to the taller man and then showed the little rectangle of smooth, flimsy card.

"You can use this in the meantime, just bring it in next time you come in store and you can use it as many times as you like until your card arrives, then just throw this one away."

"Awesome! Thanks a lot for all your help!" the American took the card and grinned widely; Arthur cleared his throat subtly, sweet God, that accent was really grating on his nerves now; _'Please leave…'_ Arthur begged in his head, he smiled shortly again.

"Have a nice day."

"Thanks! You too, see ya!" and with that the tall man waved and left the shop, grinning his head off.

Thankfully, there were no customers around to see Arthur fully kick his still chuckling manager in the leg.

"And YOU! What were you playing at! That whole horrid ordeal could have been easily avoided!" he spat under his breath so he wouldn't be heard by any customers.

"Ah but I had nothing to do with it." The Frenchman said smoothly, ignoring the throbbing in his leg in favour of looking suave. "It was purely by chance of fate that you came face to face~ though you know how I adore watching you squirm." This earned another kick to the leg and clip round the ear, the other staff on tills avoided the two men smoothly, this outbreak of violence a common occurrence. Francis nursed his leg as Arthur began to sort out the cash in his till; a devilish smile spread across his face. "You should be thanking me, you certainly were popular, though maybe you should ask someone else to validate his parking next time~" the Englishman turned and narrowed his eyes.

"What are you blathering on about now?" Francis waggled his eyebrows for a second time.

"A certain someone was AWFULLY interested in your derrière…" he said somewhat suggestively.

"Wh- -" his eyes shot open as realisation hit him, his cheeks turning a dark pink despite himself; only a moment passed before Arthur harshly punched a key and logged off his till, storming passed the Frenchman still leant on the counter. "I'm going on Recovery for the last ten minutes of my shift." He muttered, turning back to Francis harshly. "Do your damn job and get rid of those coat hangers!"

Arthur hated Recovery, he didn't like the idea of crawling around on the floor picking up other people's mess, things they were too lazy to put back on the correct rail or even in the right aisle; he didn't usually do Recovery because of his shift times but he would rather do anything than be on tills with Francis right now, especially after his last customer. Yes, Arthur hated Recovery, but he supposed it didn't really matter, because he wasn't going to do it anyway; his shift ended in under ten minutes, it would probably take that long to get to the staff room and get his stuff together. No one would care, he had stayed passed his clock out time before, now he was making up for lost time; he would sign himself out of his shift and out of the building at five o'clock and finally go home. His cheeks still burnt as he hurried up the stairs; he hoped above all else that the tall, blonde American would never cross his path again, especially when he was working.

Sadly, fate never really seemed to give a toss about what Arthur wanted at all.

* * *

**Right! So, there we go! Chapter one done!**

**I apologize for the boring first chapter, and for the repetitive way in which Arthur works, and for the huge amount of exposition with the shop's polices X'D  
**

**I wanted to show the monotonous pace at which Arthur lives his life (that's broken by Alfred turning up). This is going to be quite long and I'm not sure what to rate it because I'm not sure where I'm going to go with it. But we'll call it teen for now.  
**

**I hope you enjoy it, as this is going to be my first try at a proper USUK fic :3  
**


	2. Enter the Hero

Alfred walked back into the parking lot; he'd been shopping in the town centre for a while and he was starting to get tired, sure he'd only just parked there but still, he'd been shopping other places and his feet were beginning to hurt. He was just opening the door to his car (he still got confused sometimes with the change of sides when it came to the driver's seat… England was weird) when he fully noticed the large multi-store building that connected the parking lot. He was surprised he didn't see it before, but then again he sometimes went into a daze if he didn't have to pay attention; he looked down the row of shops and businesses. Movies, bowling, arcade, skating… this was place was awesome! But there were also other shops like the ever present 'Tesco' that was in England, as well as a 'Poundland' which he guessed was like Walmart back home; as well as some shops he'd never even heard of.

Alfred had recently moved to the UK, not only to help with his career but also for the change of scenery; and settling down in the large town was a good choice for him in his opinion. It was a nice change to the crowded cities that he grew up in, but it wasn't one of those little English villages that had nothing in them; so it was all good, a nice balance of population and facilities. Besides, English villages kinda creeped him out; he'd seen WAY too many horror movies that took place in small English villages where no one could hear you scream. He repressed a shudder as he decided to venture into some of these new shops.

Walking in, he was surprised with the size of the store; it didn't look that big from the outside. _'Looks like 'The Doctor' is at work here~'_ he thought giddily to himself as he smiled and made his way around the store; he'd been getting into British television for a while and he was loving it, especially now that he was in the actual country of origin. People never stopped noticing his accent on the street and were always really nice to him; and he had to admit, it was nice getting so much attention from complete strangers. Maybe it was vain of him to think so but it was cool to get people walking up to him and being so friendly, especially since the stereotype for British people that he'd grown up with was that they were all irritable fuddy duddies. Besides, he was pretty awesome to begin with (if he did say so himself) so why wouldn't they be nice to him?

The store was perfectly nice, just a normal shop with a variety of merchandise; clothing for the most part, and most of that being women's clothing, but there was a men's section, and the clothes they had were pretty good, cheap too. But then the store expanded to children's clothing as well as basic home supplies; stuff like bedspreads, frying pans, cups, plates, cushions, nothing extravagant but all essential stuff. Everything in the shop was cheap and honestly, Alfred was annoyed with himself that he hadn't been in here before; he was still buying stuff for his new house (in fact it was the reason he was shopping today, the rest of his stuff was in his car), and he had been paying a fortune for stuff at 'Homebase' and 'B&Q'. Here, a plate was £1 and there were offers everywhere! And the stuff was nice, he didn't really have a particular style or theme with his house and kitchen like some people and these were fine. AND he definitely wouldn't be spending £35 on a 'dining set' again anytime soon.

Despite this way of thinking, he decided against buying anymore stuff for the house, he'd do that another day, maybe; this store was nice and everything but nothing was really catching his eye, he'd already spent quite a bit of money today and he really should've been saving some. However even as he thought about this he picked up a few short sleeved T-shirts with American motifs; he needed a couple more shirts and these were cheap, besides, he was nothing if not a bit of a patriot. Not to mention he always felt a little guilty if he walked into a shop and didn't buy SOMETHING, even just a candy bar would do (needless to say, this frame of mind resulted in many of his 'impulse buys'); seeing as this shop didn't sell candy bars (which he thought was crazy!), he figured he'd buy something he needed. He walked back down the aisle near the queue that held men's formal suits and shirts, leading to the exit; he hadn't been down that aisle yet and he thought he might as well see the rest of the shop before buying his items and deciding if he should go there again or not. He was minding his own business in the queue behind an old woman, looking aimlessly about the tills, looking at the merchandise on the back wall; more cushions, boxes, oh hey! They did have candy! But it was only in big jars or tubes and those were expensive… yep, nothing of interest, just boxes, towels, cushions...

'_Holy…'_

A mop of messy blonde hair caught his eye; a flash of spun gold that caught the light as the person moved. Alfred's eyes widened as the blonde man behind the till served his customers, unknowing of his presence, moving with ease through the motions of his work; he gave his customer a small smile as he handed her the plastic bag full of clothes and Alfred felt his stomach flip. He wanted the man to smile at him like that. The man was perfection; even though his eyebrows were pretty damn big even they were perfect, they kinda suited him, and the more he looked, the more he liked them. They also hung above the most dazzling green eyes he'd ever seen, Alfred wished he was closer so he could have a proper look at them; he was slim too, his uniform polo shirt unbuttoned slightly and the collar laying lazily open. The mystery blonde was simply fantastic. He continued to stare openly at the man as a new customer gained his attention; he didn't care about anything at that moment, the last thing being his own sense of shame, he couldn't stand to tear his eyes away from the vision in front of him (and he wasn't one to exaggerate).

There weren't many people manning the tills apparently so the slightly large queue was going rather slowly, all the more time to stare; after a while he saw another man, on the register next to the green-eyed blonde, lean over and talk to him. This man had longer, paler blonde hair and a beard; not that the American bothered to take a proper look at him, he was too busy staring at the man with huge eyebrows. He watched as the man's expression became angrier from the moment he was spoken to, his eyebrows knotting beautifully as he then raised one of them in question; he opened a bag and looked to the queue as another customer came to him, Alfred swore that the man did a double-take. For one moment in time their eyes locked; it felt like an eternity and Alfred wished they could stay in that second forever, the man was looking over at him, those lovely green eyes slightly wide with the initial surprise and confusion. The moment ended almost immediately though and the blonde man went back to serving his customer, and Alfred continued to stare; every now and then he would catch the man's eyes flickering up to him for a split second before looking back down with determination.

Nothing else mattered in that moment; Alfred gazed at the man and concentrated his whole will, he yelled and screamed and prayed in his head, all the while keeping his eyes on the blonde. No matter what, more than anything… _'Please. Oh PLEASE!'_ he wanted to be served by this man; oh God in heaven let him be served by this man! The old woman in front of him stepped forward as the male English voice called out the man's till number, and Alfred felt his dreams die a little inside; but as she walked, the man on the other register called her over to him. Did that mean… yes! Alfred's whole face lit up like the fourth of July as he practically bounded forward; someone, somewhere must have heard him and apparently they liked him enough to grant his wish. He didn't really notice the kinda sour expression on the man's face but he didn't really pay it much mind anyway; a lot of people in England looked like that, it was like their national facial expression. He'd seen that expression a lot since he came to England… he couldn't imagine why. He smiled his best, most 'charming' smile, the kind that made people back home in America go nuts, no one could resist this smile.

Although… he wasn't in America anymore… And even if he was, he was pretty sure he was smiling more like a maniac than a cool, sexy guy; and this smile, whatever it was, wasn't working out the way he'd hoped. The Englishman just smiled shortly and Alfred ignored the summersault his stomach did.

"Thank you for waiting." He said politely; Alfred's knees almost buckled.

'_OH GAWD that accent!'_

Like many Americans, he had a soft spot for the British accent (though most of them claimed they didn't even have one; couldn't they hear themselves?), but THIS guy, it was insane! He'd heard plenty of British voices since he came to England, and he'd thought he'd got used to it by now but apparently not; this guy's voice was like music! Alfred couldn't think of anything articulate to say so settled with grinning his head off and practically yelled the very intelligent response:

"No problem!" he saw the man in front of him do another tiny double take, his eyebrows furrowing a little before blinking and getting back to work. The American wanted to see what other cute expressions the man could make. The whole time while his items were being scanned, Alfred felt as though the air was way too thick; the silence between them was unbearable. He subconsciously started to bounce on the balls of his feet a little, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to say something; he had to talk to him!

"I've never been in this store before!" he grinned his most dazzling smile; _'Nice, Alfred; smooth, laid-back, good conversation, keep it up.'_ He psyched himself up in his head. "I'm really glad I came in now cause I saw you-y-" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, now he was stuttering like a moron; the Brit looked up and raised a beautifully big eyebrow.

'_NO. BAD. WRONG. WARNING!'_ this was NOT how things were meant to go. Alfred floundered for a quarter of a second before grasping at any escape he could find; thankfully, he was AWESOME at talking his way out of things. "Y- YOUR! Your SHIRTS! Y- yeah! Th- they're REALLY cool shirts! I uh, didn't know you guys liked the US that much! There's the flag and stuff… uh e-everywhere!" he inwardly slapped himself. _'NICE recovery, HERO.'_

He looked up at the Englishman again (after noticing that he'd been looking at both the ceiling and his feet in succession during his panic) and observed that the blonde man's mouth was pressed into a hard line; he seemed speechless for a second but then took a breath through his nose and turned his attention back to the shirts; his voice seemed a little harsher when he spoke.

"Yes, though you'll notice the Union Jack dotted about the place as well, along with other nation motifs; it's a theme that's been rather popular since the whole Olympics season. Patriotism and all that." He completely missed his tone of voice (English people always sounded like that right?). Alfred stopped himself from looking dreamy-eyed; _'Haa~ 'dotted' his accent's so cute!'_ he thought before he'd actually registered what the other man had said; finally he felt as if he was on equal ground, he could start a conversation with this! And the rest would flow from there.

"Oh yeah!" he piped up happily, "Yeah the Olympics were awesome! And we won too so that was cool!" he smiled so much that his eyes squeezed shut in the process for a second; he opened them again and saw the one look he didn't want to see.

The man was staring at him in a mixture of what looked like (held back) disbelief, disgust, and disdain; his eyes slightly wide and his mouth hanging open the smallest bit. Oh yes, he'd seen THAT look many times since he'd come to England.

That was the 'Oh God, it's a stereotypical American!' look.

Alfred frantically tried to think of something to say, ANYTHING to say, anything to redeem himself, he'd obviously offended the man and that was the LAST thing he wanted; sadly, the only thing he came up with only seemed to dig himself deeper. "B-But you guys came third so hey! That's cool!" he stammered in a voice that was embarrassingly higher in pitch than it was usually. "Not everyone c-can go up against China and stuff so, yeah…" he trailed off pathetically and felt his whole body physically sink, he wished that he COULD sink into the floor and be gone forever. The Englishman looked at him blankly for a second, his voice was almost emotionless.

"Do you have a store card at all?" Alfred felt caught off guard again and mentally kicked himself for stuttering so much, he really didn't understand why he was acting like this today, he wasn't usually this nervous either; he put it down to embarrassment for making a fool of himself.

"A s-store card? What's that? Do you need one?" the smaller blonde moved to pick up a card on his cash register and lent on the counter; the American couldn't help his eyes from following him, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. The Englishman turned the card over in his hands, looking at it lazily.

"Well, no you don't need one, it's not necessary, but it certainly helps if you do have one." He went on to explain the benefits of the card and honestly, it sounded pretty good to Alfred; but he was finding it really hard to concentrate. The man in front of him talked calmly while turning the card over almost absently; every now and then he would look up and Alfred from his position and make eye-contact, maybe to check he was still listening, each time he did, the American smiled and nodded once to show he understood. Holy crap this guy looked cute like that; leaning on the counter with that slightly bored look, turning the card over in his fingers, and his voice. Sweet JESUS that accent was to DIE for! He was practically prickling just from hearing it, like music washing over him. _'Woah wait what? No, bad Alfred. Listen to what he's saying, it's probably important; crud now I can't stop looking at his mouth!'_

All too soon the Englishman stood up straight again. "Would you like to register for a store card today? It's completely free of charge." Alfred paused.

"That sounds pretty cool…" he said under his breath; he hadn't heard half of what the man said (too busy looking) but he could definitely see the card coming in handy, he could see himself going to the store again.

Y'know. For plates.

He tried to look charming again as he grinned. "Yeah! Sure why not!" when the man on the other side of the counter passed him a form to fill in, he looked to the pen resting on the cash register and looked to the other blonde with a smile "Can I fill it out now?" after a second the man answered absently.

"Yes of course; don't bother with phone numbers or anything like that, just the home address and email address really matters… And your date of birth if you want that voucher." He was looking at his cash register screen inattentively.

Half way through filling in the little boxes on the form, Alfred remembered the parking ticket he got when he came in; he fished it out of his pocket, aware that in some places he could get free parking.

"Do you guys validate parking?" he asked with a grin.

"Have you done all your shopping within the hour?"

"Yep! This was the last store I came to! Just got in the parking lot." He chirped happily, cheerful that he was able to talk a little more with the man. His small smile made it feel like his stomach was trying to join a gymnastics team.

"Ok, you fill out that form and I'll go do this for you." The Englishman said politely as he turned and walked down the line of tills towards a little machine on the desk by the wall; the American smiled as he continued to fill in the boxes on the form, but couldn't stop his eyes from flitting up for a quick glance…

And holy shit did this guy work out? _'Christ, his ass is fantastic! Damn… lookit that… wh- NO. BAD Alfred! The form! F-fill out the form...!'_ his blush deepened as he caught the knowing smirk of the bearded blonde man on the till across from him.

By the time the man came back to the till, Alfred had just about filled out all the boxes (he put his phone number down anyway. Might as well). He handed over the form along with two £20 notes (he still found it a little funny that English money was colour coded) and felt a little too happy when the shorter man thanked him for it; he asked if he wanted the receipt in the bag and the American was taken aback for the millionth time that day.

"Uh, yeah sure go ahead!" he had no idea why the man had asked. He was about to take the bag off the counter when the blonde held out a piece of flimsy card. Alfred took it automatically, not even knowing what it was.

"You can use this in the meantime." The Englishman explained. "Just bring it in next time you come in store and you can use it as many times as you like until your card arrives, then just throw this one away." Alfred looked at it for a split second then grinned at the cashier with his best smile.

"Awesome! Thanks a lot for all your help!" the man smiled shortly as he handed him his bag, making the American smile even more.

"Have a nice day."

"Thanks! You too, see ya!" and with that, he waved and left the shop, grinning his head off.

Alfred practically skipped to his car.

He wanted to run; he wanted to jump, he wanted to throw his bag down on the ground and dance like he'd just scored a touchdown. He didn't know what he wanted to do but he did know ONE thing for certain.

A plan was now in motion.

A most cunning plan that would take all his skills and charms.

He was going to that store again.

He was going to meet that man again.

He was going to see A LOT more of him.

Fortunately, fate had always rather preferred Alfred in the grand scheme of things anyway.

* * *

**Chapter 2! Guys I can't believe the response I've recieved from this fic. Thank you SO much! It's given me the determination to write the next chapters with even more determination! X3**

**I tried to make the changes that people suggested to me but I still don't fully know how this site works so I'm sorry if I'm making it difficult for you :'3  
**

**This chapter is just chapter 1 but from Al's perspective XD (I always like it when Al's the one who falls first XDD and from first sight too ;3).  
**

**There's more dialogue and stuttering cause the way I see it: Arthur didn't really care and wanted to forget the meeting, so he didn't really remember all that was said. Al cared too much and so remembers every horrible detail of his humiliation XDD  
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**I love writing fail!Alfred XDD  
**

**Thank you so much again everyone and I hope you enjoy this chapter and chapters to come! Any reviews are welcome! X3  
**


	3. What's in a Name?

**(This takes place during mid September)  
**

It was a full week until Arthur felt like he wanted to run from his till, pushing every possible thing out into the path he made behind him, in order to get away.

He had all but forgotten that horrific encounter with the tall American the week before, choosing to push the incident as far into the back of his mind as he could. However, the following week, on the same day, at around the same time as the first ordeal, about an hour before Arthur's shift was scheduled to end; the horror flooded back to him in the form of blonde hair and an obnoxious, American, spectacled grin.

_'Oh no. NO. Not you…!' _but there he was; all grins and sunshine, looking around him like a puppy having the time of his life. Arthur considered his options, glancing around quickly; he wondered if he could risk hopping off his till to busy himself elsewhere. No chance of that; it was rather busy today so he'd have to stay at his post. He considered just thinking 'sod it' and running for his life, praying that he'd make it to the pass-code protected door and hiding in the staff room. But he thought that vaulting over the till counter was probably in bad taste. It seemed that he'd just have to pray that he wouldn't be forced to serve the man; he checked the time on the screen in front of him.

Wait. Was that? YES!

He logged off his till immediately.

"Francis!" he all but yelled, startling the Frenchman and causing him to spin round.

"Oui?" he questioned, bewildered. Arthur ignored him and power-walked past the manager and away from the tills.

"I'm going on fitting rooms!"

Arthur actually rather liked manning the fitting rooms. Yes, there were always the horrible, butchered cover songs that played over the speakers and people sometimes didn't put things back on the hangers correctly, which meant more work for him, but it was very easy work. All he had to do was stand there and take people's items when they didn't want them. Greet them, ask how many items they have, give them a small disk with the corresponding number, and take back the disk when they were done, along with any items they didn't want. Simple as 1, 2, 3. Hardly any pressure at all really; he was practically getting paid for standing around for an hour or two (depending on his shift).

Little did he know that not even ten minutes in, he'd have hell to deal with all over again.

"Hey, Eyebrows!"

It was like the American had a bloody radar on where Arthur was so that he could annoy him endlessly; if he wasn't working, Arthur would have launched himself at the man to punch that grin right off his face. How dare he speak to him in such a manner! And that _nickname_!

"I beg your pardon, sir?" his voice practically came out as a growl; he was holding back his anger rather admirably if he did say so himself; a few years ago, he would've already broken the American's nose, whether he was on the job or not. Of course the taller man's smile never even faltered, he just laughed a little too loudly.

"Well I never found out what your name was did I?" he said as he scratched his cheek. "And I guess those eyebrows of yours make an impression!"

OOOOHHH GOD this man was ASKING for it. Just like an American to blurt out the first thing to come to his mind without thinking the sentence through whatsoever! Arthur's fists began to shake a little; the Englishman (ever polite) simply rolled one of his shoulders, passing it off as getting rid of an uncomfortable twinge from standing too long. The blonde American pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose absentmindedly before extending his hand; his giant grin dissolved into a smile that was more sheepish.  
If Arthur wasn't fuming with rage at that moment, he might have almost allowed himself to consider it to be somewhat 'charming'.  
Almost. Somewhat.

"I'm Alfred." He introduced himself with normal volume, almost timidly averting his gaze for a second before looking back to the Englishman. "Alfred Jones. Um, nice to meet you…" He seemed unsure of what to say; his regular grin returned as he further extended his arm with what looked like determination. "What's your name?"

Arthur couldn't really find an answer; he searched in his mind but came up empty handed. It wasn't because Arthur found the sudden change of attitude surprising, no it wasn't what the man had said; far from it, his silence was due to the pure stupidity of the man.

'_Is he THAT oblivious? Is he THAT utterly stupid? I'm wearing a bloody NAME TAG!'_

Arthur ignored the offered hand completely in favour of crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the fitting rooms entrance; he raised an eyebrow, fighting the smirk from his face when he saw the dejected look that flashed over the man's expression, lowering his hand.

"Bob." He replied dryly; his cheeks puffing out slightly as he uttered the single, sharp syllable. His attempt at condescending sarcasm went completely overlooked as the (apparently very stupid) young man just smiled more, almost as if he'd accomplished something.

"Bob, huh?" Arthur stopped himself from scowling. _'Bahb…' _Good LORD, that accent was annoying; he wanted to tear out his own ears! The taller (idiotic) blonde continued with a chuckle. "It's funny, even names as common as 'Bob' sound fancy and sophisticated in your accent!" Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose; he really couldn't take much more of this. He WOULD just ask the man to kindly _piss off _but he was a customer so that was out of the question. But did he really have to be that stupid? 'Alfred' seemed to be confused about how Arthur was acting, completely missing that he was an utter fool; it seemed the best approach was to be direct with the man.

"If you don't mind me asking, Sir. Are you being serious right now?" Arthur said, still pinching the bridge of his nose but allowing himself to look up at the man. Said man simply cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I be? I wanted to know what your name is."

This was ridiculous.

"Yes, I'm sure…" Arthur continued, this man certainly was a rather open chap wasn't he? "But that's not actually my name."

"But you said it was."

"I was being sarcastic."

"That wasn't very nice."

Arthur inhaled, long and deep through his nose; he dragged his hand down his face in slight desperation. He had never had to deal with someone so stupid before; he was starting to lose his resolve.

"Yes, and I'm sorry for that but I – Hello! How many items do you have?" he turned his attention to a woman awkwardly coming up behind Alfred (not sure if she should interrupt the two men), his voice instantly becoming polite and slightly cheerful. The American jumped slightly and shifted out of the way as Arthur gave her a little disk with a '4' on it and ushered her through. When she was out of sight, he put his hand on his temple, willing the oncoming headache to go away.

"I'm very sorry for the inconvenience," Arthur started patiently, if not a little frantically, he was NOT going to get in trouble because of this buffoon. "But if you have nothing to try on, could you please move away from the entrance to the changing rooms? You're… obstructing it a bit." Alfred didn't bat an eyelid.

"But I want to know what your name is."

"WH - -!" Arthur sputtered as he felt the heat rise in his cheeks (whether from anger or embarrassment he wasn't sure. He'd go with the former for now). He floundered for a second, not really wanting to give his name for some reason, but not wanting to deal with him any longer; he glanced around him quickly and spoke in a hushed, annoyed voice (though he didn't know why he was being so secretive).

"_Arthur_! My name is Arthur!"

The change in Alfred's expression was strange to see; going from dejected-and-confused to happiest-man-on-Earth in one second flat. He grinned from ear to ear, one would've thought the man had just been handed his heart's desire in a neat little package, bow and all.

"Awesome! Great to meet'cha Arthur!" the man's smile was so genuine, it was hard for Arthur to believe but he found himself doing so anyway; he looked utterly over the moon, and just from learning his name. Arthur could feel his cheeks were still red from the exhaustion of talking to the man up to this point, despite himself he was becoming a little flustered; he told himself it was still bubbling anger. Something nagged at the back of his mind but he ignored it.

"Y-yes it's nice to meet you too." He said in a rush, silently begging for the man to leave. "Now I'm sorry, but if you could- -"

"Yeah I get it." Alfred said, the grin still plastered to his face, it wasn't dimming anytime soon it seemed. "Well! Better get goin'. See ya next time Arthur!" he gave a wave and another flashy grin before walking to a different part of the shop.

'_Oh God, there isn't going to be a 'next time' is there…?"_ Arthur thought in despair. The man really was exhausting, talking too loudly and laughing aggravatingly and smiling _infuriatingly _and…

His expressions really did seem genuine though, no one that stupid could act that well; but why did he seem so intent on learning a name? And without even thinking of a name tag? He was so open and forward about everything. Alfred Jones…

Arthur's cheeks still burnt; he scowled and busied himself with the clothes on the fitting room rail.

'_What an absolute, insufferable git.'_

~~  


"Arthur…" Alfred whispered, tasting the name on his tongue. Yeah… Arthur. Arthur was a fantastic name; Arthur suited him. Arthur. Arthur was a fantastic name for Arthur. Arthur suited Arthur fantastically. Yeah. Arthur was fantastic.

Alfred couldn't stop himself from smiling; his cheeks began to hurt but he didn't care. He was too happy. He had learnt the man's name; _Arthur's_ name. His face had been so cute! The way he spoke, the way his cheeks lit up. Oh yeah. That was fantastic. He had learnt something new about him, and he wasn't going to stop there. His plan was working out fantastically.

'_Fantastic.'_

* * *

**Now this is just a hunch, but I'm pretty sure that Alfred thinks this whole situation is fantastic! *slapped* (haha). Oh Alfred, you ARE a cutie, but you're SUCH a twit! Oh yes Arthur, you know he's wiggling his way into your heart *hit* Also this is how i imagine Arthur to be saying 'Bob': watch?v=QkT6KJytilI (sorry about the bad quality XD) I love that man XD**

**Oh my goodness everyone, I can't believe the overwhelming positive response I've had on this fic! It's so touching and your reviews mean so much to me! Thank you all so much! (love to you all~)**

**I also thought I might as well say that the events that happen in this story are based on events that happen in MY workplace (except the romance obviously X'D *forever alone*); for this reason, you will never learn the name of the shop XDD not that it matters XD. The updates will be slower now, but I've made plans of pretty much the rest of the fic; all I need to do is write it up properly X'3**

**Thank you all so much again for all your support and reviews! they are my life blood :3 You have no idea how much it means to me :3**


	4. Annoyances and Sniffles

It carried on like this in the later weeks.

Alfred Jones would come into the shop at roughly the same time and the same day as the week before; the only difference really was that he seemed to be coming in earlier each time, not that Arthur really took any notice. But try as he might to avoid the American, he always ended up serving him; or, if failing that, the young man would trot up to Arthur when he was on fitting rooms (depending on the week) and attempt to talk his ear off. Needless to say, Arthur swiftly (and politely) always found a reason to be busy or ask the man to leave; thankfully the American never saw him as being rude, instead he just grinned and left as if he had accomplished something.

After the first few visits, Arthur had become somewhat used to the man; he still had an overwhelming sense of _'Oh lord, not him again…'_ But he no longer felt compelled to run for the hills; nor the horrible feeling that he was about to throw up (perhaps as a distraction, so he could then, run for the hills).

Rather it had become a… Tradition of some sort; Alfred's coming into the shop was a strangely welcomed comic relief for Arthur (though he would never admit it). The American would never fail to show Arthur more reasons as to how Alfred was an utter buffoon; but it was endearing in a way, one which Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on.

One week, the young man entered the shop a full half hour before when he would usually come in; there was no queue, so Alfred sauntered right up to Arthur's till with his ever present grin.

"Hi Arthur!"

"Hello." He said leaning back subtly, just ever so slightly. Arthur refused to call the American by his first name, even though he knew what it was now; it was a matter of principle. Why, to call the overly zealous young man by his first name so casually might give him ideas! The _last_ thing Arthur wanted was for the man to feel he was so familiar with him that he'd think they were _friends_; the Englishman had to fight down a grimace at the very _thought_ of the American flitting around him all the time.

It seemed that Alfred had come by on a mission that day, rather than to distract Arthur from his work and be a general nuisance, as the American lifted a plastic bag onto the counter.

"Sorry about this dude," he said cheerfully, though his smile was strangely sheepish; Arthur had no idea why he was apologising. "I bought some stuff last week but this is too small." He said, pushing the plastic bag across the counter slightly. "Can I return it?"

'_Oh I see!' _that's why he came to him straight away. Arthur still had no idea why he was apologising but…

"Oh, no need to apologise, sir." Arthur said a little too cheerfully; finally he wouldn't have to deal with the American for once. "Though I'm afraid you can't return items here." Alfred's face fell.  
"I can't?"

"No, you see I'm not authorised to do returns; you'll have to go to till number one for that." Arthur gestured down the row of tills at his manager standing at the first one in the line. "You don't have to get in the normal queue for returns; just go and wait by till number one and they'll sort you out." He smiled shortly at the American as the smile returned to other's face.

"Oh I get it!" Alfred said with a grin. "Thanks for your help, sorry again!" and with that, he left to go to where he was meant to.

Really, that should have been the end of it.

Fate really did like slapping Arthur in the face.

The next week, Alfred came into the shop again; holding a plastic bag, he came up to Arthur and placed it on the counter. His grin was large and sunny as ever.

"Hey Arthur! So, I bought this for a gift, but the guy says it's too big; so can I change it for something smaller?"

Arthur looked at the man for a moment. _'Alright, fair enough he may have forgotten.' _He smiled a little.

"Of course, sir; though I'm not authorised to do exchanges, you'll have to go to till number one for that." Alfred's face lit up with realisation.

"Oh right, yeah!" He laughed and took his bag. "Forgot about that, sorry. See ya Arthur!" And off he went.

This happened again the next week.

"Hi Arthur! I bought this a while ago and it, well… Just doesn't look good… So! I was wondering-"

"_Yes_ you can return or exchange it, but you have to go to till number _one_." Arthur said exasperatedly. The American bit his lips together in embarrassment; he laughed sheepishly.

"Roger. Sorry. Thanks, Arthur!"

And the next week.

"Hi, Arthur! I bought this thing, but I think I actually like the other colour more-"  
"If you want to exchange it you have to go to till number _ONE_."

"Oohp. Gotcha. Thanks, Arthur!"

And the next…

"Hi, Arthur! So I got this thing-"

"Till number _ONE_, Jones."

"Oh yeah! Right!" He left laughing.

When Alfred Jones came into the shop the next week, right on schedule, Arthur saw him coming. He was walking straight towards him, as usual, only this time he was on his mobile; who he was apparently talking to wasn't important. What _was_ important was the fact that he was carrying one of the shop's plastic bags; meaning he'd come in to make another return or exchange.

The American grinned at him and raised the hand carrying the plastic bag in greeting.

Arthur greeted him with a scowl; pointing with the entirety of his arm to till number one. Alfred laughed loudly and walked past him, flashing him a grin as he did so. Arthur's face flushed with frustration.

Yeah. That's what it was.

Winter was stupid and could go die in a hole.

Fair enough it wasn't _actually _technically winter yet, it was only October; but the weather very quickly decided that it would be bitter cold with a biting wind to make it worse. Seeing as Arthur wasn't the sort to turn on the central heating in his flat (for goodness sake, the bills were high enough without the added bonus of central heating!), despite his many layers of clothing when at home, he'd come down with a bit of a cold.

This bout of 'man flu' would have been much more bearable if Arthur could have just stayed at home like the hermit he was; cuddled up in every duvet and blanket in his flat, watching reruns on 'Dave' and eating soup.

But oh no… Arthur had to _work_ for a living.

He had to drag himself out of his wonderfully toasty bed, pull on his uniform (which was cold from being out in the open all night), and drive to the shop for eight hours of hell. Honestly, he could have called in sick, but the illness wasn't that bad and he wasn't one for turning down a chance to earn money just because he was reluctant to get up. In his opinion; he could still talk, he could still walk and he could still breathe. He would survive.

Although his nose apparently wanted to run a marathon.

Arthur sniffed for what seemed like the millionth time as he handed a bag to yet another customer; waiting until she turned and left before quickly swiping his finger under his nose. Of course, the one day he gets a runny nose and has to go to work, he _would_ leave his tissues at home wouldn't he? Brilliant. Wonderful. This is _exactly_ how he wanted to spend his day.

Being the uppity Brit that he was; Arthur wouldn't allow himself to (even subtly) wipe his nose while he was serving customers. Whether they would have minded or not, Arthur still didn't do it; it was the principle of the thing. He didn't really know why he didn't want to wipe his nose in front of people; maybe it was so he could be polite, maybe he didn't like the idea of someone wiping their nose in front of him so he'd offer the same courtesy, in fact… Maybe it was just the fact that people would be _looking_ at him. Either way, he wasn't fond of the idea; he'd just have to deal with his nose, the customers, his arsehole of a manager making fun of him for not taking better care of himself…

"Hey, Arthur!"

And then there's _this_ gitface.

Alright, so there wasn't actually anything _wrong_ with Alfred Jones (other than being a complete gitface), but Arthur didn't feel well and his whole mood was swiftly going to utter pot. And of course, at that point there was no queue, so the American shuffled on by, placing a couple plates on the counter; he was wearing a scarf and earmuffs, wrapped up in one of those big parka coats, making him look a bit like a marshmallow. Arthur sniffed and pulled the plates towards him.

"I'll wrap these up for you, shall I?" he sniffed again as the young man nodded.

"Yeah, thanks a lot; don't want 'em to break." Alfred said with a grin. Arthur nodded and got out some tissue paper from underneath the counter, sniffing as he did so; he placed the first plate in the middle of the paper and began (*sniff*) wrapping it up. It was getting annoying now; trust Arthur's luck to have a runny nose the day Alfred Jones came into the shop. He was sniffing every damn five seconds and he was beginning to get self conscious; hopefully, no one would mention it. Then again why would they? No one had mentioned it so far and it wasn't really something people just comment on- -

"Hey man, you alright? You're sniffing a lot."

Alfred _effing_ Jones could go and die in a hole. Bloody, insensitive, untactful American!

"I apologise." Arthur sniffed (he didn't really know why he was excusing himself for sniffing; he couldn't really help it); glancing up from his wrapping, he saw a sympathetic smile on the American's face. Such a genuine and charming expression (well, it wasn't _that _charming…!) made the Englishman falter for a second.

"Winter sucks, huh?" Alfred said gently; Arthur's eyes widened as he blushed a little despite himself. He sniffed and continued wrapping the plates.

"Quite." Arthur sniffed again and cleared his throat; he put the plates in his bag, he looked up again to see Alfred rummaging in one of his bags. "Could I have your store card?"

"Hm? Oh yeah! One sec…" he rummaged a little more before pulling out his wallet as well as a small, unopened pocket pack of tissues. "Here!" the American grinned, handing over the tissues; Arthur stared at them for a while before gingerly taking it and pulling one out. As he swiped the man's card, Arthur blew his nose silently (despite how increasingly self conscious he was becoming).

"Thank you…" He said quietly, holding the packet of tissues back out, attempting to give them back; Alfred just smiled.

"Nah, man, keep 'em." He lifted one of his bags as he gave over a £20 note. "I just bought a multipack; I have like, ten of these things, I have no idea what to do with 'em. So you have it, you need it more than I do right now." Arthur just averted his gaze and busied himself with sorting out the man's change; what was really embarrassing was that he could feel his cheeks burning. That was probably due to the fact he looked like an utter fool and now had an even bigger fool helping him.

"Well…" the Englishman cleared his throat and handed over the man's change and receipt. "Thank you… Again…" he mumbled, passing the bag over the counter; Alfred grinned again and took it, chuckling (a sound Arthur had never really heard seeing as the man didn't seem to like normal volume).

"No problem dude. Well! Thanks; see ya next time, Arthur! Get well soon ok?" the American smiled again and left with his bag.

Arthur was _not_ blushing.

His face was red because he was ill and it was too hot in the damn shop; and _certainly_ not because of Alfred _bloody _Jones! He looked down to the packet of tissues as he pressed the call button; he felt his lip twitch.

'_I'm being an idiot…'_

* * *

**So! new chapter guys! In which Al has the memory of a sieve and Arthur gets Man Flu! (It's rather long, sorry about that :'3)  
**

**(For those who don't know: 'Dave' is a TV channel. More often than not, there are always reruns of 'Top Gear' or 'QI' or SOMETHING on there XDD)  
**

**(this chapter was so gross! all this talk about noses and shiz XD). To make up for the lack of update... I guess this is a double whammy Chapter? :3 just to push the story forward a little :'3**

**But yeah... Arthur's feeling something there... doesn't know what it is.. but it's there~ *slapped* I also thought I'd show the more considerate side of Alfred too. He isn't a fail ALL the time XD  
**

**All the reviews I've been getting for this fic have been really touching and I'm just so glad you guys are enjoying it! :'3 (I've also had a couple of people trying to guess the shop! which is always fun X3) **

**As always, your reviews and comments are highly loved and appreciated and I hope you're enjoying this fic as much as I am enjoying writing it!  
**

**Thank you all so much because you have no idea how much it means to me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I look forward to seeing you all in the next one! :3  
**


	5. Frightening Women and Taking the Plunge

Arthur made his way down the stairs and onto the shop floor; today wasn't going to be very fun, he could feel it. He had just got over his 'man flu' and his flat was still cold as a penguin's arse. With winter coming and all sorts of holidays fast approaching, the shop was going to turn into a mad house. He walked along the row of tills, writing down and signing next to what till he'd be on and made to walk over to it; a woman's voice called after him, the 'no nonsense' tone stopping him in his tracks.

"Arthur? Could you come over here for team briefing please?" His eyes widened as he spun round to obey, seeing the long, platinum blonde ponytail and signature black bow.

'_Oh Lord… Not her…'_

Natalia Braginski… His manager. Well, while Francis was _a_ manager, Natalia was _the_ manager. She was the one in charge of the actual shop; she spoke to all the higher-ups, signed all the pay checks… Sacked the employees…

Arthur hurried over to the corner of the room, where the briefing was being held; Natalia didn't like the chance that a customer may hear the statistics. The manager had been away for a while because of an injury or something similar (so Arthur had heard), it was pure bliss while she was gone and Arthur was beginning to actually enjoy his job. Though now she was back; the pressure would be piled on. He had never thought that a job in retail would involve any pressure whatsoever; Natalia proved him wrong.

She wanted everything perfect; statistics should always go up, products must always be pushed, people left the shop with more products or having signed up for a store card. Arthur had never been so stressed during his first 13 weeks of working in the shop; if something was wrong with how someone was doing _anything_, Natalia would make sure they knew about it. Natalia needed everything absolutely ship shape in her shop.

And she frightened the living daylights out of Arthur.

Now this was coming from a grown man who had had his share of frightening experiences in his life; this woman, was _frightening._

"Yesterday we came in at a total of £17,473 which is good for this time of year; up 7% from last week and 5% from this date last year, which is good but I think we could all do better." Arthur never really understood the statistics, they were just a bunch of numbers in his mind; in his opinion, as long as they were going up he didn't care. "With those numbers, we ended up 4th overall and 2nd in the area…" That was good; maybe she'd get off their backs today. "Product of the week is the 'Microfiber cloths', £2, so everyone be sure to be pushing those please; we also have those 10% off vouchers that a lot of people will be using, so be sure you know what to do with those." Normally, one wouldn't think twice about what Natalia was saying; she was a manager, it was her job. However, it was the way in which she said these things that had Arthur constantly on edge; her tone always reminded him of that one teacher you could never please. The one that always sounded disappointed and tired of your crap no matter what you did.

"Also, everyone be sure to keep your F1 bypasses under control, you know we like to keep it under 9%." Natalia continued, looking to some of the new staff gathered around her. The 'F1 bypass' was basically when a customer didn't want, have, or couldn't be bothered to use their store card; this bypass was recorded in the till for all the managers to see how many potential customers a person had let slip through their grasp. It took the number of customers served and how many didn't use a store card, and worked it all into a percentage; and one certainly got a talking to if this bypass got too high. "Arthur, you're currently on 7%, which is good, just bring it down a little more, that would be wonderful, thank you." Arthur nodded curtly; _'If my bypass is down it's DOWN. Be happy with it…'_ Natalia dismissed the employees to their various stations and all was business as usual; the rush already seemed liked it had passed and the flow of customers were rather feeble. Maybe today would go ahead without incident after all.

But it was never that simple, was it?

~~

Alfred walked through the automatic doors into the shop, grabbed a basket - he had to make it look like he was doing something – and checked his phone for the time; it was a full hour and a half before when he'd first stepped into the shop so many weeks ago. In the past weeks, the American had been coming in earlier and earlier; wanting to see where exactly he stood in Arthur's schedule, seeing if he was near the end or beginning of his shift. Now I know what you're thinking; and yes. If someone said the plan out loud then yeah… it would sound a little 'stalker-ish', but Alfred was a man of science! This was purely for research! It wasn't like he was some obsessed 13 year old with rope in his basement, ready to kidnap and hogtie the poor man; Alfred didn't approve of that stuff. It was just that, in all honesty, someone like Arthur would probably never talk to someone like him if Alfred met him in the street; meeting and talking in this store was really their only chance. As if fate decided long ago that that's where they'd meet. And who was Alfred to deny fate? He grinned to himself.

Speaking of; there was the Englishman now. It looked like he was manning the changing rooms again, fantastic; that left a larger window to talk with him. As he walked over, Alfred noticed that Arthur looked a little tired; he hoped that the man had got over his illness in the past week, but maybe it was still affecting him? This cold weather really did suck.

"Hi Arthur!" Alfred said happily, smiling as the man turned around and he saw recognition flash across his face.

"Oh..." he replied quietly before giving a small, polite smile in return. "Good afternoon, sir." Alfred felt disappointment bubble in his chest for a moment. Arthur still refused to call him by his first name; it got to him sometimes but he just kept telling himself that it was because Arthur was too polite for his own good. Alfred kept his smile sunny as always.

"You can just call me Alfred y'know…" he said, tilting his head to one side. "All this 'sir' stuff makes me uncomfortable."

"Hm." Was all he got in reply, the man then turned back to tend to the clothing rail; Alfred knew that the Englishman would still refrain from calling him by his name. Of all the guys Alfred had to be interested in, he _had_ to go for the one last stuffy, uppity British guy in existence.

"You feeling any better?" Alfred said after a pause. Arthur stopped what he was doing, looking blankly at the rail in front of him before answering quietly; his eyes still averted.

"…Yes, thank you." It was the smallest gesture of thanks possible really; to anyone else it would mean hardly anything, but it made Alfred's heart sore. His chest bubbled up with warmth and he smiled.

"It's cool…" There was another silence; Alfred began to feel increasingly awkward. In truth, there was an actual reason for him coming into the shop that day; it had been something he'd been preparing himself for for a while now, psyching himself up whenever he had the chance. He'd been giving himself the largest pep talk in the world while he was driving over; he'd decided that today was going to be the day.

Today was the day he would ask Arthur out.

"So…" Alfred began, trying to mentally psych himself up even as he neared the point of no return. He could feel his heart speed up, the anticipation was killing him; all the thoughts of what could go wrong flooding his mind. _'You barely know him, he barely knows you, he's a grumpy dude, you're a bit of a creeper, let's face it, you don't even know if he actually goes for guys…'_ Alfred tried to shake these thoughts from his mind; he didn't really care at that moment. If it happened it happened, if it didn't, it didn't; Alfred was just gonna ask him out for coffee, nothing overly suggestive there. Nothing sexual or whatever; he just wanted to get to know him better, even if it was just as friends or hell, even acquaintances. At least to begin with.. Arthur was unaware of Alfred's inner turmoil, he was putting clothes back onto hangers and putting them on the rail in front of him; Alfred decided to just suck it up. He took a deep breath, and then took the plunge.

"Wanna grab a coffee sometime?" Arthur missed the rail completely and the shirt (coat hanger and all) clattered to the floor; the Englishman stared at it blankly for a moment before crouching and picking it up. Alfred braced himself, his heart beating insanely fast but he thanked God it was cold outside so he could blame his blush on the weather. A request for coffee wasn't bad right? Someone could ask anyone that and not mean anything by it right? Arthur could say yes to that… He could allow himself that, right? However, Arthur being the uppity, stuffy Brit that he was…

"I'm sorry sir, but that's inappropriate banter for the workplace." Arthur still wasn't looking at him, focusing on his work. Alfred's heart sank; there was a painful sting in his chest but he worked through it. _'Inappropriate banter for the workplace'?_ Well, Alfred had dealt with that card before.

"I don't work here." He replied smoothly.

"That is inappropriate banter for me to take part in while I'm working." Arthur hadn't even missed a beat; this guy was good, but he wouldn't give up that easily! Alfred pouted, pondering for a moment; he smiled, lips curving almost deviously.

"So it'd be fine if you weren't working?" That one got him. Arthur faltered for a moment; his eyes darting down for a few seconds before looking back at Alfred as he answered calmly.

"… My apologies, sir but that is inappropriate banter for the workplace," The American felt his shoulders drop; this didn't seem to be going anywhere. "If you want to continue this conversation, you will have to do so at a time when I am not working." Now _that_ perked him right up; he leaned forward a little and put his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.

"So when do you get off work?"

"I'm sorry sir, but that is - -"

"Inappropriate banter for the workplace; I get it. I can't win can I?" Though there was laughter in his voice, Alfred could tell that he seemed downright dejected. Arthur looked at him sidelong from the rail in front of him

"My apologies, sir." He said quietly, picking up a few items of clothing and draping them over his arm; Alfred sighed inwardly as the man kept on being so formal with him, even as he was rejecting him so flat out. He would've been depressed for longer, but then the shorter man turned to him and Alfred saw something he had never expected to see on the Englishman's face.

He _smirked_.

"If you really want to talk to me, it seems you'll just have to run into me on the street." And with that comment, Arthur left the changing rooms (slightly hurried) with his bundle of clothes, to put them back where they belonged. His tone and expression were much more playful than Alfred had seen him talk to customers; and especially more _everything_ than he would talk to Alfred. He stood in shock for a while, watching Arthur's back as he left to do his job; a strong smile worked its way onto his face. Sure, it wasn't a 'yes'… But it wasn't a 'no' either.

Alfred's smile grew as he thought about what Arthur said, and the fact that it may have been slightly inappropriate banter for the workplace.

* * *

**Oooooohhhh~ The plot thickens!... Sort of.. not really XD Alfred's still a fail and Arthur's still an uppity gitface.  
But hey! At least I updated! *slapped* I'm sorry it took so long but I had to change laptops recently so Ive spent the last few days transferring all my files :'3 I just realised... these chapters are actually pretty short :'3 I open this thing in a smaller window so it's easier for me to read and edit (don't ask me why XD) so it looks longer... but actually... it's pretty short X'D sorry. In future I'll try to make the chapters longer :'3  
**

**I have Natalia as the big scary manager cause she's a scary woman. XD I think she suits the situation XD she won't have a very large part in the story but just so you know she's there XD**

**Alfred finally asked him out! Too bad they're both a couple of dorky fails. :'I But what's this? An expression from Arthur that ISN'T a scowl!? GASP! *slapped*  
**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you to all of you who leave reviews cause they are my life blood and you have no idea how much I love you all for that (though I can't reply to the guest's reviews! I'm sorry! but I love you anyway!). Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well as chapters to come! :3  
**


	6. Top Hats and Jump Scares

Ah, Halloween… A time for fun, food, and freaking out little kids - and adults alike - for no good reason other than you _can_…

Oh yes. Halloween was wonderful.

Like most shops, as soon as the summer holidays were over and everyone went back to school, they broke out the Halloween merchandise. Arthur hated the fact that they would always put out products for one holiday as soon as one had just ended; but hey ho, he supposed that was how things had to be done in retail. With the 31st October looming ever closer, the shop had become rather frantic; not to mention, that after Halloween, there would be a large sale to get rid of all the remaining summer clothes, in order to make room for the winter collection. About 80% of Arthur's customers were purchasing goods for Halloween, mostly the ready-made kids costumes; lazy kids and lazy parents, though he guessed no one really had time to make their whole costume from scratch anymore.

On the 30th, which happened to land on a Saturday, the shop was raising money for charity; raffles were set up, an employee placed at the door with a bucket and tin of chocolates to help gain change and at the front and prizes were available for customers who wanted to take part. As well as all this, the managers had set up a little event among the employees; as they did every year, at least to Arthur's knowledge.

All the employees had to dress up in order to help everyone get into the Halloween spirit, and also to help people get into the mood for raising money for charity; even the managers joined in on these sorts of occasions.

Natalia had dressed fully as a Victorian maid, though not the slutty kind, a petticoat and skirt that went down to her knees, stockings and sensible, buckled shoes; letting her hair fall loose, she placed her signature bow on the top of her head. Finishing the Halloween look with a bloodied apron and a carving knife strapped to said apron (making her look even more terrifying… Let's face it, she was terrifying before, but now she made it seem as though she would run you through if you did anything wrong!).

Francis went along the same approach; tying his hair back and cladding himself in a Victorian butler's suit, white gloves, shined shoes, pocket watch, the whole deal. Francis' blood splatter effect landed on his white collared shirt and handkerchief, staining his gloves and also dotting one side of his face.

Together the two made a real frightening pair; one that was a huge hit with the customers and had people flocking to them all day. Natalia was polite and told them about where she bought various parts of her costume, as well as the parts she made or tweaked herself; she also slipped in very convincing information about new deals and products that she recommended the people to buy (which all worked out fabulously, Natalia was really good at this sort of thing, that's why she was the manager).

Francis on the other hand was just a gigantic attention whore like he always was and used the attention to try and flirt with every single woman who talked to him; which also resulted in many more items being bought, as was Francis' way… Each to their own in Arthur's opinion.

As well as the Managers, all the employees had fun dressing up, some more than others; it all depended on the person really. Whereas some people went all out with their costumes like the managers (they never quite pulled it off with the same finesse as the two managers though), full capes and masks and blood; others went with a little more toned down approach, sometimes just showing their support with a witch's hat or a wig or something of that sort.

Arthur did neither of those things, he preferred to be more subtle; he did show his support for the charity and all that, but he didn't go full out on Halloween, nor did he not really try. If he _wanted_ to go all out, he would, but that always took too long and people would always get jealous of his costume and the fact that it couldn't really be bought anywhere (not that Arthur liked to _brag_ about it). Besides, going full out scary wasn't the point; people would be expecting that, where was the fun in doing something that people saw coming? Oh no, Arthur liked to be more subtle, and he took a large amount of pride in successful scaring; even a small jump of surprise was a victory for him, and the customers would always find it amusing afterwards, and very clever, whatever it was he decided to do.

He was cleaning the area around his till when Arthur looked up, a rather familiar American grin greeted him; Alfred Jones was walking towards him. The queue was non-existent (thus why Arthur had taken this opportunity to clean up his station) and so the American sauntered right over with a small basket of items.

Oh _this_ was going to be fun.

~~

Alfred had decided to go to town that weekend because Halloween was fast approaching (in fact, it was tomorrow) and he had completely forgotten to buy Halloween stuff; he had always loved the holiday so he wanted his first Halloween in England to be a good one. However things at his work had become a little frantic so he was stuck behind piles of work, who can blame him for having to buy all his Halloween stuff the day before?

Alfred checked his list (His co workers were always telling him he should be more organised. Psh!), looking down the piece of paper for items he needed to make his first Halloween in England truly awesome!

Most of the important things had already been bought; Candy to give to trick-or-treaters, a (kinda half-assed) costume for himself, pumpkins, a laughing skull with a motion sensor to scare kids when they walked past… Yep! Pretty much everything was accounted for. All he really needed now were the last finishing touches to make his house Halloween worthy; a few trinkets to give the front of his house a spooky feel. Simple things like hanging skeletons and fake blood splatter to make it look like someone had slapped a bloodied hand onto the window pane. And he knew just where to get them.

It was a shame that he most likely wouldn't see Arthur today; after all, Alfred didn't know what days he worked or the hours that he did, he never went there on the weekends. In truth, the only reason he was able to go to the shop every week was because he didn't work that day; Alfred hated to think that their meeting could have been so easily missed, though he was sure that he would have met Arthur sooner or later anyway (not that Alfred liked to _brag_ or anything, but he was pretty awesome; no doubt they would've met sometime anyway. Just saying).

He grinned as he walked into the store and saw the familiar orange and black motifs everywhere; lining the walls and covering the displays. He dropped a two pound coin into the charity bucket and took a mini snickers, unwrapping and biting into it as he grabbed a basket; venturing onward in his quest for novelty spook items. Alfred almost laughed when he saw the staff walking around in costume, he took an extra moment to look at all of their differing costumes and accessories; the managers looked downright fantastic (or at least he assumed they were the managers because they had such great costumes). It really was a shame that he wouldn't see Arthur today; it would have been fun to see what outfit Arthur would've gone with.

So one can imagine Alfred's surprise when he saw the object of his affections working the cash register like any normal day. Alfred mood suddenly skyrocketed; he hadn't expected to see the Brit that day so he felt a little stupid, getting overly excited like a school girl. However, at the same time as being overjoyed by seeing the Englishman, he was also unbelievably disappointed; not because of anything overly important mind you, mostly the reason was the man's crappy costume. Or rather lack thereof.

Arthur was fussing around his cash register like the busy body he was, clad in his normal shop uniform polo shirt; nothing out of the ordinary there, same plain, boring old shirt. In fact the only thing that was different, and the only thing that made it seem like the man was dressing for Halloween at all, lay fastened to the top of his head.

Arthur wore a small top hat, tilted and attached (somehow, probably by clips or something) to the left side of his head. The royal blue and black pinstriped design, coupled with delicate black lace along the brim, stood out against his blonde hair and plain uniform; Alfred admitted it was cute (and strangely hot at the same time), but it really seemed like a lack of effort for the holiday on Arthur's part. Alfred smiled as he walked over with his basket of items anyway; sure, the costume wasn't the most extravagant he had ever seen but hey, at least he was here.

"Hey Arthur!" He said cheerily as he sauntered over, placing his basket on the counter; he'd timed it just right so there wasn't a queue, allowing Alfred to slip right in before another rush of people came along. Arthur didn't say anything, just smiled happily and nodded, taking his items and putting them into a bag.

Ok, something wasn't right.

Arthur wasn't usually so happy; Alfred tried to shake it off, it must just be the holiday spirit, having an effect on even the surly Brit. The American grinned and leant on the counter; he was feeling a little cheeky today (though in all honesty, when was he not?) so he thought he would try pushing his luck. He pointed to the Englishman's sorry excuse for a Halloween costume.

"Aren't those supposed to be for girls?" he flashed a smile as Arthur paused and raised his eyes to meet Alfred's; but he simply smiled a little wider and hummed a chuckle, keeping his mouth closed.

Ok, something _definitely_ wasn't right.

Arthur didn't say anything throughout the transaction, despite Alfred's many attempts at conversation; he just smiled and nodded or shrugged and it was really starting to creep Alfred out because he wouldn't stop _smiling_! Well, it wasn't really a smile, at least he didn't think so; it was too foreboding, it looked too much like he was plotting something, though that was just his overactive imagination… Right? When Arthur finally spoke, it was more of a mumble as he asked for the money to pay for the items; Alfred just handed over a twenty pound note with a confused pout and furrowed brow, which Arthur seemed to find very funny, his closed lips stretching slightly in a smile. Arthur raised his head and looked Alfred in the eyes; which caught the American off guard as those green eyes glinted with mischief and Alfred felt his heart jump into his throat. The Englishman handed the young man his bag and grinned fully, revealing - -

Fangs.

"Have a nice day."

"UhWAHuhgghh!" Alfred made a very interesting (but very manly. Definitely manly. Oh yeah, totally) noise in the back of his throat and jumped backwards; flying at least two feet into the air like a startled cat and raising his arms protectively due to the shock. Arthur instantly burst out laughing before holding it back enough as to not draw attention; he grinned, showing of his fangs as he chuckled, his eyebrows tilted upward in sympathy for the poor man, no matter how amusing it was.

Alfred's breathing was quicker and it seemed like he was on the verge of hyperventilation; Arthur had practically just given him a heart attack! After about a minute of silence (save for Alfred's breathing and Arthur's breathy snickering), Alfred finally cleared his throat and went to stand in front of the counter again.

"Dude…" was all he managed to say; which caused the Englishman to bite his lips together in an attempt to keep himself from laughing, Alfred was smiling too so everything was alright, but the American had not expected that _at all_.

"Sorry about that…" Arthur smiled apologetically and cleared his throat. "I had no idea you would react that way; though I have to say, that was the best reaction I've had so far." Alfred stood in silence for a moment, mouth agape; he had no idea that Arthur liked to have _fun!_ Fun, fair enough, but to pretty much _prank _people! Alfred had no idea why he found that so appealing.

"You've been doing this all day?"

"Oh yes." Arthur smiled as he remembered the many people he'd startled with his subtle costume; though it was true, no one had reacted quite as wonderfully as Alfred had, the look on his face had been priceless. "I usually do something along these lines for Halloween; it gets people in the spirit and puts them in a good mood. Same for me." He gave another small grin as he handed the bag out to Alfred again; the American took it gingerly, a little embarrassed that he made such a scene; there was a pause before Alfred tried striking up a conversation with the Englishman, now that Arthur would allow himself to open his mouth.

"Well, you definitely got me, that's for sure. Still, to have to work on the weekend, that must suck."

"I don't usually. I'm meant to have weekends off; the only reason I'm here today is because they needed the staff." Arthur replied with a small smile; Alfred made a mental note in the back of his mind.

Alfred laughed and lifted the bag off the counter. "Well try not to scare any little kids to death ok?" Arthur chuckled in reply.

"Oh they'll be fine; it's good for a child to be scared once a year." At that, Alfred burst out laughing; it was clear that the Englishman was joking around with him and for that reason, Alfred want to laugh all the more. The American took a step back and raised his hand in a wave.

"Happy Halloween, Arthur! Have a good day!" Alfred turned to leave, giving him one last grin and he began to walk towards the exit; Arthur chuckled and called after him.

"And the same to you, Jones!"

Alfred almost tripped. He picked up his pace as he began grinning like an idiot; he didn't dare look back because a queue was forming and he didn't want to make another scene. He powerwalked to his car and threw his items in the backseat (good thing nothing was breakable), he then got into the driver's seat and slammed the door; he held and grinned at the steering wheel for a few moments in silence before head-butting it and squeezing his eyes shut, smiling so much it hurt. He was pretty sure that if he were a woman, he'd be squealing at that moment; everything just seemed perfect in that few minutes.

Arthur had said his name; it wasn't his first name like he wanted, but that wasn't the point. The point was the way in which he said it. When Arthur had resorted to calling Alfred by his last name before, it was always in frustration or anger; this time, he had called his name while smiling. He had seemed so relaxed, so happy; it was like Arthur had really been happy to see him. A genuine tone of joy had come from the Englishman; a genuine smile has graced his lips, and Alfred couldn't believe that he was the one who caused it. He had laughed too; a proper laugh, he never thought Arthur could look more attractive than he usually did… But he had never seen him smile like that before.

Alfred started the car and went to drive out of the parking lot, sparing another glance to the shop front as his grin dimmed to a soft and happy smile.

Again.

He had to see Arthur smile like that again.

He had to see that beautiful smile again.

…

Preferably without the fangs.

* * *

**Chapter 6! FINALLY! Sorry about the long wait everyone; I had to change laptops and then find Microsoft Office and install it all again :'****3 Bur hey~ things are progressing nicely eh? It's probably just cause Arthur's in a good mood so he forgot himself XD** **Arthur was such a troll in this I can't even. What is wrong with my writing? X'D I just realised that this fic is gonna be really long... good God.. I'm so sorry.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always reviews are highly appreciated and I love each and every one of them. Thank you very much and see you next chapter! **


	7. Sales and Tight Shirts

As Arthur walked out of the staff room and made his way towards the stairs leading to the shop floor, Francis' voice made him stop and turn. The man was holding a bright red t-shirt and the Brit could see the familiar white writing printed onto it.

"If you could change into this, it would be appreciated." Francis said with a smile; it wasn't a suggestion. Arthur groaned inwardly as his shoulders dropped, begrudgingly turning around and taking the shirt from his manager's hand, making his way to the staff toilet to change into what would be his uniform for the next few weeks. After he changed shirts, he went to put his other top in his locker and went to the stairs again; feeling thoroughly uncomfortable in the blaringly red shirt.

Arthur hated sales. Plain and simple; he _hated_ them.

First off, there were the garish, tasteless, uncomfortable t-shirts; made from cheap cotton blends and so brightly red that it hurt one's eyes, these shirts were bought in bulk and were gender neutral. This meant they looked awful on everyone; the shirts were too thin to keep in any heat at all which meant these Autumn to Winter sales were going to be utter hell. On the front of the shirt was the name of the shop, under which were printed the words 'Sale Crew'; on the back, the simple word in bold: 'Sale'. All of these words, front and back, were printed in cheap, white, plastic-y letters, all in unbelievably boring Helvetica font. Disgusting.

Secondly, was the state of complete panic that went around the shop during these sales. People in a frenzy over stuff they wouldn't normally buy, trying to get as many deals they possibly could; this made Arthur's job a living hell as he had to deal with queues of countless people who were, more often than not, irritable and very frustrating to deal with. This led to the third reason he hated sales; the amount of customers. Arthur was only a part time worker, he usually worked four hour shifts, Monday to Friday (which frequently turned into eight hours if it was asked of him – Arthur would never turn down a chance to earn more money). But with the amount of customers coming into the shop because of the sale, it left them understaffed, and he was called into work much more often; he didn't mind really, after all, he got more money from it.

But that didn't mean that it wasn't dammed annoying.

So Arthur supposed he'd just have to bear with it for the next couple of weeks until the damn thing was over. He'd just have to deal with the heavy workload; the sore feet and aching backs, the frustration and the fact that he wasn't allowed to show it… the fact that his managers would be at his throat… watching his every move… Ready to pounce on failure like the shop was a God damn war zone…

Arthur _hated_ sales….

* * *

Alfred walked into chaos.

Well, that's certainly what it seemed like anyway. The queue was bigger than usual, every cash register had a person behind it; Alfred looked around and saw big red 'Sale' signs all around. _'That would explain it...' _he thought to himself as he went about his normal route round the shop. It seemed that people in England got just as crazy over sales as people in America; well, almost. Nothing could really compare to black Friday. As he was searching around the sale items for things that were worth buying – these kinds of sales only ever tried to get rid of merchandise that no one wanted to buy originally – he slowly made his way towards the changing rooms; after all, he hadn't seen Arthur behind any of the cash registers.

His original plan was to talk to Arthur as he manned the changing rooms like his would usually; he sometimes felt bad that he was bugging the man while he was at work, but as Alfred got to know Arthur better, it seemed that he'd gotten used to having the American around. To Alfred, this was an incredibly good sign! His plan was abruptly changed however, when he spotted that the object of his affections was not alone; he quickly leapt into stealth mode to scope out who this mystery person was. The man was young and lanky, the sort of thin arms and legs that made it seem like Alfred could snap the man in two if he wanted to; he was definitely younger than both Arthur and Alfred as well, a rather young face that suggested he wasn't even out of his teens. It was apparent that the redheaded boy worked at the shop, wearing the same red T-shirt as every other member of staff – they had even got Arthur into one, which was amusing in and of itself. He was grinning and laughing, holding a bundle of clothes on hangers; the shocking thing was that Arthur was actually smiling and talking _with _this guy, it seemed like the two were actually pretty good friends.

Alfred felt a strange pang in his chest that he would later identify – to his guilty horror - as jealousy; he decided to move a little closer to investigate, and he was definitely _not _eavesdropping. He stealthily worked his way down the racks of sale items, hoping that Arthur wouldn't notice; eventually getting close enough that he could hear the men's conversation.

"You really hate sales that much?" the younger of the two chuckled, amused by Arthur's attitude; he sounded like a nice enough guy, his voice was young and cheery; sounding more like a London accent compared to Arthur's smooth eloquence. It didn't really suit a friend of Arthur's at all - though it might have been for this reason, and the fact that the Englishman seemed to tolerate the younger man, that Alfred instantly kinda disliked him.

"Henry, what you don't realise is that you're only here twice a week." Arthur said with a slightly tired smile; _'So this guy's name is Henry huh?' _Alfred thought to himself as he chanced a glance over to them. "With this sale going on, and the lack of staff, I'm being called in for nine to five shifts every day of the week! I know others have it worse, but I'm just not used to it." Arthur said with a drained sigh; Henry smiled sympathetically and took a few more coat hangers from him.

"You're on tills too though; I'm just walking around putting everyone's mess back where it's meant to go."

"Oh don't get me started on that." Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "Believe me, you're better off not being on tills lad. The customers are insane and the sale items just make everything complicated."

"It can't be _that_ bad." Henry said as Alfred shifted closer, concealed by the clothes rack.

"It's just tedious." Arthur said with a sigh. "You have to make sure people aren't using vouchers on the wrong products because they don't work on sale items, everyone is more irritable and hard to deal with; even the sale stickers cause problems!" He picked up a random piece of clothing and showed Henry the price tag; the sale price sticker was plastered over the bar code. Arthur let out a frustrated sigh. "Practically every tag is covered; it wastes so much time peeling the damn things off." Alfred saw Henry laugh and in retaliation Arthur just smirked at him; Alfred felt that same pang in his chest. If he had done something like that, Arthur would have just brushed him off and talked using that annoyed clipped tone of his.

"Well, just think of the money. Always think of the money." Henry chuckled as he fumbled with the large amount of clothes he had to put back; Arthur huffed a laugh and patted him on the back.

"Always the money." He repeated. "I'll keep that in mind Henry, thanks. See you in a bit; I'm glad to hear your course is going well, now off you go." Henry nodded let Arthur shoo him away, leaving him to sort out his rail; with the sale going on, it seemed that Arthur had his work cut out for him, everyone was trying on multitudes of clothes and of course leaving over half of them with him.

Alfred decided to leave Arthur alone for a while out of the kindness of his heart; heading back to the sale rails to sift through more items, he saw this as an opportunity to buy some presents for various people and occasions (it wasn't only clothes that were in the sale after all). On every item he picked up, he checked the price tag; on every tag that didn't have a sale sticker over the bar code, Alfred carefully peeled it off and placed it back over the bar code, making sure that it was different for each one, so no one would suspect anything. Oh yeah; he was like a ninja!

By the time he had gone around the shop a few times, picking up various things and putting them back, deciding what he actually wanted to buy; he headed over to the cash registers where Arthur was now standing. Alfred lingered for a while until the queue was small enough for him to waltz over to Arthur casually, greeting him with a smile; it was returned a little sourly.  
"You ok there Arthur?" Alfred said, his smile wavering a slightly; Arthur just nodded and waved a dismissive hand.

"Sales." He said simply; the words seeming enough to get across the situation. "As you can see, the shop is in shambles." He gave a tired version of his polite smile.

"You must love your job right now huh?" Alfred said, offering his own sympathetic smile; Arthur just laughed once sarcastically, but Alfred swore he saw the Brit's lips tug up at the corners.

Arthur took the first item and tried to scan it, the sale sticker getting in the way; his brow furrowed a little in annoyance but he quickly peeled it back enough to get to the barcode. When this happened for the third time, he huffed a sigh and looked to Alfred a little sheepishly (which was a very cute change in expression in Alfred's opinion).

"Sorry to keep you waiting." He said, uncovering another barcode, though it ripped halfway through and Arthur had to scratch away at the label to actually uncover it, growling slightly under his breath.

"Don't worry about it man!" Alfred grinned; this meant he could spend more time talking with Arthur. Sure, his reasons were a little selfish, but it was worth it. "So how long do these sales last anyway?" he asked, making conversation as Arthur scanned his items.

"About two weeks usually." Arthur said, battling with another sale sticker. "We have to get rid of the Halloween merchandise and make room for the Christmas stuff, as well as get rid of all the summer clothes." He was having real trouble with this one damn sticker; more willing to talk to pass the time and distract his customer from how long he was taking. "So as you've seen, things get a little hectic."

"So do they have you working weekends again?" Alfred asked, even though he had heard him talking earlier; if Alfred remembered correctly, Arthur was only supposed to work during the week, and it seemed he didn't usually have very long shifts. Arthur sighed in response.

"Unfortunately…"

"Well look on the bright side; at least you'll be getting more money!" Alfred said happily and Arthur gave a small lopsided smile, making Alfred's stomach do a little flip.

"You're not the first one to tell me that today." He chuckled slightly. Usually this would have had Alfred over the moon; instead, the feeling was dampened with that same little twinge of jealousy.

Like the smile wasn't for him.

* * *

The next day, Alfred was heading to the fitting rooms with a few pieces of clothing when he saw Arthur talking to a rather stout looking woman. She was turning this way and that and Arthur regarded her thoughtfully. Like the day before, Alfred approached stealthily and as he got closer, he realised that Arthur was giving the woman advice about her clothing choice. Arthur respectfully turned down the outfit she had chosen, directing her to something that may suit her and her occasion better. After the woman thanked him and went back into the fitting rooms, a man with pale hair walked past the Englishman to clear his rail.

"Jeeze Kirkland, what are you, a gay? Or are you actually a woman and you never told us?" the man said, grinning; Arthur's eyes narrowed and he scoffed.

"Piss off, Pink Eye. First off, you know I'm Bi; and don't you dare generalise." Arthur said lowly, thinking no one could hear him; Alfred did a small happy dance in his head, there was a chance for him and Arthur after all! "Secondly, I'm just doing my job; I gave her my opinion. It's just what I think would look good. It's called 'customer service'. Thirdly, I have been working here for two years. I have picked up many phrases that sound convincing and I've done this enough to seem good at it." He smirked slightly as the other bristled.

"Hey! It's not pink eye, it's a lack of pigment! For the last time, I'm albino!" He huffed as he gathered the clothes from the rail. "And I'm glad no one comes to me for their fashion advice; it's annoying as hell and the clothes here suck anyway."

"God forbid that they _should_ ask, you have horrid taste." He grinned darkly when the other glared at him. "Besides, it's just my personal opinion. Other people will like different things to me. I'm pretty much just stating _my_ preference."

That gave Alfred an idea.

* * *

Arthur was re-hanging the clothes on the rail of the fitting rooms (for goodness sake, people never did it right), when he saw a familiar head of blonde hair and a too happy grin. Arthur's stomach flipped slightly at seeing the man again so soon; he was slightly surprised by it himself, but shook it off as an 'Oh great I have to deal with him again so soon' kind of feeling. Arthur's raised an eyebrow.

"Weren't you in yesterday?" he asked, skipping greetings altogether. Alfred seemed slightly taken aback and grinned sheepishly.

"Uh, well yeah but, I was in yesterday for presents and stuff. I came back for some stuff for me."

Arthur shrugged and went back to sorting out his rail; He looked back and saw that the American was carrying a small bundle of clothes.

"May I help you with something?" Arthur asked hesitantly. Alfred shifted his feet; not quite looking him in the eye, like he was embarrassed.

"Right, that's what I wanted to ask." He said hesitantly. Arthur raised his eyebrows; he really had wanted help with something. Alfred raised his arms slightly, gesturing with the small bundle of clothes. "I was wondering if you could, uh… Help me out with these?" he was blushing a little. Arthur frowned slightly, his eyes widening a little.

"What do you mean?" he said slowly; wondering what exactly he needed help with. Alfred seemed to catch this and blushed more.  
"Oh! No, no I just- I want someone's opinion on them, not for you to help me wear them or anything. Just an opinion so... Yeah." Alfred said quickly and trailed off; when Arthur didn't say anything, Alfred continued, looking more awkward than ever. "I don't really… know much about clothes. I was hoping I could get some opinions? I don't really want to make a fool of myself y'know?" He said and Arthur shifted awkwardly; now it was the Englishman's turn to be sheepish.  
"Um, right. Well, you know, I could just get one of my female co-workers, they'd probably be more help to you than I can."

"No!" Alfred said a little too quickly and Arthur jumped slightly; Alfred quickly recovered and shuffled his feet. "I really don't wanna choose the wrong thing and embarrass myself. Especially if it's in front of a girl y'know? I'd really prefer if someone I knew helped me out, I'd be more comfortable that way. Sorry to bother you with it but…" He trailed off pathetically. Arthur blinked; Alfred felt like he knew him well enough to help him with something he was embarrassed about? They hadn't known each other for that long and they certainly didn't speak often but…

Arthur felt a small amount of heat come to his cheeks.

And that lead to Arthur being roped into helping the apparently bashful American to pick clothes; he had a bundle of both formal and informal, and the first thing Arthur noticed was that they were a little tight. Alfred was rather broad across the shoulders and the t-shirts he had chosen seemed to… cling to him. Now, some would consider this a good thing; however Alfred didn't seem to understand why they were tight to begin with, and he wanted something a little baggier. Arthur, to his dismay, found the clothes downright distracting!

Each T-Shirt was just a hair too small, clinging to the man's torso in all the right places, showing off his muscles that lay underneath the layer of fabric and- _'Holy hell what am I even thinking!?' _Arthur shook his head slightly but it did nothing to stop him from looking. Wearing such a T-shirt would usually make a man of Alfred's build look intimidating or like one of those full-of-themselves, completely-a-prick types; but with the American's innocent face and kind smile, that image just didn't fit. It just made him look - much to Arthur's dismay and shocked horror – unfairly and _incredibly_ attractive.

Alfred pivoted in front of him again, looking in the mirror and at his body at all angles.

"I don't get it..." he murmured under his breath, twisting this way and that. Arthur was in a daze; a hand resting on his chin so it looked like he was regarding and thinking over the choice, where in fact he was simply staring at Alfred's lower back. Against his will by the way. He had never noticed how narrow the man's hips were, His shoulder to hip ratio was astounding- _'Oh for goodness sake Arthur get a hold of yourself!' _Arthur yelled in his head; of course, none of this showed on his face, he looked up to Alfred, trying to make an intelligent answer, raising his eyebrows.

"Hm? Hmm. Well really, it all depends on whether or not you're comfortable." Arthur covered his tracks skilfully. Alfred frowned slightly and pulled at the shirt a little; Arthur's eyes followed the movement without their owner's permission.

"Well, it's not _uncomfortable_." Alfred said hesitantly. "It's just that, they shouldn't be this tight. I haven't gained that much weight, have I?" He mumbled, looking at himself in the mirror.  
"Your build is rather broad, if you don't mind me saying." Arthur gestured with his hand absently. "Size sometimes tends to vary from shop to shop, maybe that has something to do with it?" He suggested. Alfred bit his lips together in thought for a moment.

"But I've always been a medium…" He murmured. Arthur raised an eyebrow and thought to himself.

"Would that be in American sizes?" He asked. Alfred looked a little confused.

"There's a difference between American and English sizes?"

"Yes. There is." Arthur sighed with a slight laugh and stepped forward, resisting the urge to put his hands on the American's chest _'Why do I even want to do that?! No. I don't.'_ He tugged at the material on Alfred's waist; he felt the body stiffen slightly under his touch, which wasn't surprising, so he pulled back smoothly. "American's have bigger sizes that we do. So in this shop, it's probably best that you go for a large." He smirked slightly but it was sympathetic. "No wonder you were making so many returns before. "

Alfred seemed sheepish about the whole thing, shuffling his feet.

"Right. I'll bare that in mind. Thanks for all the help." He smiled and ducked back into the fitting room to change his top, then came back out scratching the back of his head. "You got anything for smart casual? We have dress down Fridays and stuff at my work so.." He asked smiling; Arthur would never admit, even to himself, how he was a little disappointed to see the American in a baggy shirt again. The Brit paid it no mind though and hummed in thought.

"Well, I'm rather fond of these." He said, gesturing for Alfred to follow him over to part of the clothes rail which happened to not be part of the sale. He gestured to the small selection of sweater vests they had. "These are rather good for smart casual; I wear them myself at times." He smiled at Alfred a little. "I'm glad they came back into fashion, now if I wear them, people don't snicker and say I'm from the seventies. Though I'll admit, most of the people who buy them do seem to be getting on in years." He chuckled slightly but quickly remembered himself; clearing his throat and facing Alfred with another small, sympathetic smirk. "However, again with your broad shoulders; I'm not sure if they would suit you. You might want to just go with a shirt and roll the sleeves up there chap." He smiled a little as Alfred prickled slightly and whined, smiling all the while.

Arthur helped Alfred pick the clothes that suited and fitted him best, working him around his other customers. At one point, Alfred jokingly grabbed a small piece of women's clothing, holding it to his chest and asking flamboyantly if it would suit him; Arthur wouldn't admit how amusing he found the action, so settled for sarcastically saying that it would look fabulous. Needless to say, the American laughed his usual loud and boisterous laugh, grinning happily. After they were done, Alfred thanked him with a grin and said his goodbyes; taking his items and heading down to the checkout. Arthur tried not to watch the man's hips as he left, mentally slapping himself.

He barely knew the American, though it seemed that said American was determined to change that fact; he already seemed to trust him enough. And then there was that coffee invitation… But that was just as acquaintances and Arthur had turned him down anyway; though he did lead the man to believe that he would accept if he wasn't working. A small part of him, to his surprise, wanted to come across the man outside of work.

Despite how little he knew Alfred; there was one thing he had discovered. And it almost pained him to think it.

Alfred Jones was surprisingly, unfairly, and _extremely_ physically attractive.

Dammit.

* * *

**Wow. Sorry it's taken me so long to post this chapter guys :'D Things were all over the place and I also got writer's block for a while X'D **

**Oh oh oh! There's some physical attraction going on here!~ :D And damn, Alfred can be a sneaky little bastard when he wants to be XDD**

**Also, this is the first appearance of my OC Henry in this story~ w He's such a precious babu and you WILL be seeing him again. You can also see him in my other story on here called 'Jeanne D'Arc' so read that if you want to get to know his character a little more XDD**

**So yeah. Sorry for the wait and I'll try to do better :3 Have a slightly longer chapter as an apology.**

**As always, reviews and comments are highly appreciated! I hope you join me for later chapters! :3**


	8. Coffee and Chavs

Arthur walked down the high street, passing families and people of all ages; ignoring most of the shops and cafés, staring straight ahead as he walked. Another bulb had broken in his flat, and he was quickly running out of food; he was overdue for a shop anyway. He usually forgot to go and buy things for himself; his workplace usually being the only reason for going into town. However on his day off, which he thanked the heavens for considering the sale going on at the moment was killing him slowly, he had dragged himself out of bed so that he could purchase some supplies so he could, well, live.

He had only just arrived on the bus, not bothering with his car (petrol costs money dammit, and it had been acting up recently), and he was on his way to Tesco to buy all the items he needed. But then, he saw an all too frighteningly familiar head of blonde hair.

No surprise showed on his face but he felt his stomach flip (_'Why are you doing this? I did NOT give you permission to flip! Stop it this instant!'_). The American was in front of him, walking in the opposite direction so that he was facing him. Any minute the man could notice him and Arthur would have to deal with the overly happy git _outside_ of his workplace! Arthur stopped himself from freaking out and tried not to draw attention to himself; slowing down and glancing at his phone, he acted like he had somewhere to be and turned around, heading in the opposite direction. All the while speaking very calmly in his head.

'_Oh crap it's him there he is, alright don't panic stay calm we'll just turn around here nice and subtle he'll never know a thing. Ok! Good chap, I think that went rather well – '_

"Arthur!"

Well shi-

"Hey! Arthur!"

Arthur didn't turn around, pretending that he couldn't hear the voice; however that didn't seem to deter the American at all and caused him to simply call louder.

"Arthur!" Well crap. There was no way in hell that someone _wouldn't_ be able to hear that. Arthur sighed inwardly and turned around, feigning surprise at the tall blonde tottering over to him.

"Oh. Hello Mr Jones." He said politely, being a little more informal now they were out of the shop but still not referring to the man by his first name. Despite this, the American still seemed overjoyed.

"I never thought I'd see you outside the store! It's weird huh?" Alfred exclaimed happily. Arthur just smiled tightly.

"Fancy that."

To Arthur's despair, Alfred started walking with him, happily prattling on about how funny it was seeing him out of the shop and 'Wow you must be lucky to have a day off' and how damn cold it was. Arthur just hummed acknowledgements, a small part of his mind thankful that the man was wearing a big thick coat so he didn't think about his damn torso and hips. However because that small part of his mind thought that, the small part of his mind became a very large part of his mind and then he couldn't get the damn man out of his head.

Wonderful.

If that wasn't bad enough that not only was Arthur walking in the wrong direction to where he needed to be, as well as the fact that he kept picturing the American in tight t-shirts, Alfred had to pick that exact moment to make everything ten times worse.

"So, how 'bout that coffee?"

Arthur's heart jumped into his throat and he felt like screaming. It seemed that Alfred hadn't forgotten about the fact Arthur suggested that he would actually go with him if he wasn't working. He told himself it wasn't a serious invitation; it didn't imply anything and there was no reason for Arthur to get so worked up, but he did all the same. It just got worse when he looked to the other man and saw that happy smile of his face; it looked too genuine and actually hopeful and what was Arthur meant to say to that!?

"I don't like coffee." Arthur chose to say calmly, his face not showing the conflicting thoughts running through his mind. "I think I'll pass, thank you." He said with a small nod. Alfred looked taken aback and then downright confused.

"What? You said you would get a coffee with me if I asked you when you weren't working." He said, not quite whining but his tone did remind Arthur of a child that hadn't got what they wanted. Arthur stopped walking and turned to face him fully; he ignored the look of disappointment on Alfred's face and went with what he knew. He was a cold person by nature and he would not warm up to someone so flippantly; making friends with random strangers he met in his workplace was not something that he would allow himself to do. Going somewhere with this guy would be a bad idea anyway.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jones, but I can't recall such a conversation." Arthur said smoothly; Alfred frowned a little and looked down for a moment, that's where Arthur had him. The Englishman had never actually said that he would go. "Either way, just because I have to serve customers in the shop, nothing binds me to bending my will to strangers on the street, I don't have to agree to anything." Arthur continued with a rather superior smile; he decided to not let Alfred have enough time to properly process what he was saying and quickly added "If you'll excuse me. Have a nice day." He turned back in the direction in which he was meant to be walking to begin with and hoped to all things on high that Alfred would just let it drop.

"Hey, wait a sec!" Alfred called from behind him. _'Of course it wouldn't be that simple would it? Stupid oblivious, stubborn...'_ Arthur grumbled in his head.

* * *

Alfred just didn't get it. Yes, in all fairness, Arthur had never actually said – in words at least – that he would accept Alfred's invitation; however, with the way that he spoke and looked at the time, it did seem like he would say yes. As much as Alfred hated to admit it, Arthur had a good point, and he was wrong to assume things of the other man and put words in his mouth.

However with that being said, Alfred was never one to give up on something so easily.

"Hey! C'mon, wait a sec!" He called to the Englishman as he jogged after him to catch up; even as the American was walking beside him, Arthur just seemed to speed up, abruptly turning down a side street and out of the view of the public eye. The sudden change of direction had caught Alfred off guard and though it was rather obvious that the Englishman wanted nothing to do with him today, he couldn't take Arthur's rejection seriously and found himself racing after the man.

However, as soon as he turned the corner, he saw a shadowed figure rush towards Arthur, cutting off his path.

"Oi, Mate! Give us yeh phone! Wallet too!" A male voice spat in a threatening hiss. Alfred couldn't believe that someone was trying to mug another person when he was standing right there; he felt conflicted on what action to take for a second but then decided he would be Arthur's hero and would save- -

"Pfft. No. Piss off." Arthur scoffed and placed his hands in his trouser pockets, glaring at the shady man.

It seemed that this damsel could rescue himself.

"You wanna play it like that mate? I'll shank ya! You think I'm jokin'?"

"Look you twat." Arthur said pointedly and tilted his head; his stance still uncaring as he spoke in a superior tone. "It's broad daylight, we're right by a crowded street, I'm doing you a favour by not calling attention to your stupid arse! Now piss off and rethink your life." At that, Arthur began to walk away, looking thoroughly proud of himself. Alfred knew that Arthur had won, seeing as the mugger obviously didn't have an actual weapon and that he hadn't done anything while Arthur had spoken. Alfred was impressed; he had figured that the Englishman would be able to hold his own, but to actually stand up to someone who was trying to mug him? That was cool! However, it seemed that the shamed mugger wanted to gain what little self-respect he had left, and called after him.

"Fuckin' posh poofter." Arthur stopped in his tracks and Alfred was suddenly a little frightened by the expression on his face. He spun round to face the mugger and started stalking towards him, fury emanating from him in waves. Alfred noticed a distinct change in the man's accent and tone.

"What you just call me?" Arthur spat; the assailant took a cautionary step backwards but Arthur kept going. "No I'm asking you. What you just call me? You wanna say that again? C'mon, say that again to me face. You fucking chavy twat call me that again and see what you get! Yeh fuckin' waste of space and skin, why don't yeh run back home to your whore of a mum before I smash your face into the pavement!" Arthur shouted menacingly; the shady man suddenly rushed forward, going to punch Arthur in the face. Arthur dodged him easily and caught the man's arm, twisting it behind him and slamming the man into the wall of the ally. His voice was practically a hiss. "Bad choice, fucker. You ever try that shit with me again and I'll break every bone in your fucking body. I ever see you again you better keep your fucking distance or you're gonna find yourself in a shit ton a pain. Now I'm gonna tell you one last time. Piss off." Arthur released the man's arm and the shady character ran off without hesitation.

* * *

Arthur smirked as the mugger ran off; _'Bloody chavs.' _He thought to himself, it seemed that he hadn't lost his touch; he could still be intimidating and put those trainer-wearing, chain-sporting, dumbarse bastards in their place. Arthur's feeling of superiority quickly dwindled however when he turned his head to see Alfred, just staring at him. Arthur didn't know why he was suddenly so nervous; why should he care if Alfred saw the exchange? It wasn't as if he cared about the American's opinion of him, right? Of course, Arthur supposed that the other man could spread the word of him facing off against someone; but what would be the point if the fight was in self-defence? The two were silent for a moment, the Englishman becoming progressively more nervous.

"Um.." Arthur started.

"That." Alfred interrupted. "Was effing _awesome_!" He cheered, throwing both his hands high into the air. Arthur blinked.  
"Wot?"

"That's was _badass_ dude!" He cried and bounded forward; causing Arthur to jump slightly, staring at Alfred as if he had just grown a second head. Alfred's eyes gleamed as he spoke (yelled), acting as though the shorter man had just saved the world from a nuclear war. "You were just like Batman!"

"Batman?"

"That guy was trying to rob you and you _kicked his butt_! Aw dude it was epic! I've never seen something like that before!" Alfred was practically bouncing on the spot he was fawning over this so much.

"Oh I-I see." Arthur stammered; feeling overall, strangely flattered by how excited the American had become instead of judging one of the more violent parts of himself.

"It was awesome!" Alfred said again. "You acted like you weren't even scared!"

"Scared?" Arthur scoffed. "Of that pilock?" He put one of his hands in his pockets, the other pointing at Alfred; his vanity getting the better of him. "Fun fact: Chavs are usually all talk and no action; at least around here. I can tell when they're serious and that dickhead had no idea what he was doing." He paused and then looked at the American with a very serious expression. "Don't ever try that shit in London or you'll get yourself killed." Alfred just waved a hand.

"Dude, I grew up in the cities, I know how to take care of myself." He grinned. Arthur just hummed and shifted his weight, turning his ankle around this way and that.

"But how did you even do that!?" Alfred continued freaking out. "He like, _ran_ at you and you _spun_ him around and_ twisted_ his arm and _slammed_ him into that wall and _man_! It was awesome!" He heaved a deep sigh, seeming to have gotten everything out of his system. "Did you take martial arts or something?" he asked.

"Not exactly…" Arthur said slowly, resting on a nearby wall which was low enough to sit on; Arthur had twisted his ankle a little with how fast he had had to move, he needed to rest it for a few minutes. Alfred apparently just saw this as an invitation and sat down next to him.

"Then what was it? Dude you gotta tell me!" Alfred said excitedly; the man looked so hopeful, how was Arthur meant to say no? Well the answer to that should have been 'incredibly easily, tell the man to piss off and keep his nose out of his business.' However, Arthur couldn't bring himself to do that.

"Well…" Arthur said slowly, averting his eyes. "It's because I used to be like that." He chanced a glance at Alfred's face and was worried when he saw shock in the man's expression.

"You used to be one of those!?" Alfred exclaimed, pointing in the direction that the man ran. Arthur laughed and shook his head, almost seeming insulted.

"A chav? Oh good God no! You'd never catch me dead dressing like those wankers!" They both laughed, a small proud smile worked its way onto Arthur's face. "No. I was a punk. A delinquent. Literally around 3 years ago I would have beaten a man if he looked at me funny." He said, he sounded distant, remembering the old times before he straightened his life out. Alfred's grin was back on his face.

"So you were like, hardcore?"

"Pretty much." Arthur nodded absently. "I drank, smoked, got into countless fights. I was lucky I didn't get arrested. Though there were a few close calls."

"That is badass."

"Hm." Arthur's smile widened ever so slightly.

"So, is that why you swore so much?" when Arthur just gave him a questioning look, Alfred clarified. "I've never heard you swear before. It was kinda weird; and you did it _a lot_."

"Really? Funny; I was toning it down." Arthur replied thoughtfully. "I don't like to swear much anymore, I don't see the point. I only did it then cause that's the only way chavs seem to be able to communicate; using a swearword for an adjective. Makes them think they look hard." Arthur smirked at the strange look Alfred gave him. "Cool, tough." Arthur clarified, when Alfred nodded his understanding, he continued. "But I hate it when people like that say I'm posh; just because I'm well-spoken and I know how to speak properly, they act as though I think the sun shines out my arse. Bloody uneducated bastards." He said with a sour expression. He'd always been called posh from a young age; it was what he used to be teased about the most. But his mother was a well-educated woman from Oxford, of course he would learn to speak properly.

"Aw man, that makes me feel a little guilty now." Alfred said sheepishly, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts.

"Oh really? How so?" He asked. "You didn't think I was posh too did you?" Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly but it was obvious that it was in good humour. Alfred shook his head and raised his hands in surrender.

"No no no, it wasn't like that." He chuckled. "I didn't think you were _posh_, it's just that your voice compared with other people that I've met here is, I dunno, different. Smoother y'know? U-Uh.." He floundered for a second, fearing he was giving too much away. "W-What was the word you used? Well-spoken! Yeah! That. A lot of people around here, talk like, well… That guy." He pointed in the direction the mugger ran off again. Arthur just chuckled, finding Alfred's small blush rather endearing; it was funny how he was getting nervous just over Arthur asking if he thought he was posh.

"It's fine Jones. I know what you mean." He chuckled but stopped short.

It was then that Arthur realised that he was sitting on a wall, having a conversation with a man he hardly knew. That he had just told him something from his past that it usually took years to admit to his closest friends. And what startled him the most, was that he was actually enjoying it. Arthur cleared his throat, feeling a slight heat in his own cheeks (to his horror); he stood up, his ankle now feeling completely better. He turned to Alfred with a polite tone.

"Yes, well. Regardless, I'm sorry that you had to see that. Though thank you for your kind words." He said stiffly; Alfred just smiled, and Arthur felt his face redden a little more because for some reason, he could tell that Alfred knew he was being sincere despite his attitude.

"No problem dude! It really was badass." He grinned happily.

"Hm. Well with that being said. I'm afraid I am rather busy today, I have a lot of things that need doing."

"Oh man, why didn't you say so before? I'm sorry for taking up your time!" Alfred said with an apologetic smile, also standing up.

"No not at all. It- It was rather pleasant actually." He admitted, speaking truthfully. He cleared his throat again. "You know, in comparison to the whole _mugger_ thing." He added awkwardly.

"Well I'll take that as a compliment!" Alfred laughed. "Anyway, I won't keep ya then. Have a nice day Arthur!" He said, extending his hand for a handshake, which Arthur took and smiled.

"Same to you Jones." He nodded and turned, heading off to run his errands.

As Arthur made his way down to Tesco, he couldn't get the conversation he had with Alfred out of his mind. He told himself that it was just because nothing else interesting had happened that day, so it was at the forefront of his mind. But he instantly tried to push that thought as well; for that would suggest that he found Alfred the least bit interesting. Which was completely ridiculous.

Right?

God knows how Arthur would have reacted if he knew that Alfred was grinning like a mad man all the way back to his car.

No, it wasn't the 'coffee date' that Alfred had wanted. In fact, it was probably as far away from his original plan as one could get.

But Alfred had a feeling that it was just as good.

* * *

**I'm so sorry this update took so long X'D All kinds of stuff was going down, but needless to say, Arthur has a life outside of the shop! *GASP* **

**ok ok but seriously! You don't really think they'd go out for coffee so soon right? This is gonna be a loooooooong story XDDD**

**and yes. Arthur's a badass. nuff said. XD**

**and good GOD, Alfred's acting like a _woman_ he's getting so worked up about this XD**

**If this was any more cliche we'd have Arthur thinking _'What is this feeling!?_'XDDD**

**As always, reviews are highly appreciated and I hope you enjoy the next chapter! :3**


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